


They Have Their Moments

by ddagent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death Fix, Empire Strikes Back, F/M, Family, Fluff, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kid!Rey, Masturbation, Missing Scene, Pre-Series, Prompt Fill, Return of the Jedi, Rey Solo, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 27,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not many of them. But they do have them. A collection of various Han/Leia prompts and mini ficlets; ranging from missing scenes from the original trilogy, movie and modern AUs, TFA AUs, and Rey Solo stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When I Wake [Original Trilogy Missing Scene]

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Disney. 
> 
> letsgoanddream prompted: "FEBRUARY - return of the jedi, the moment Han's eyesight comes back."
> 
> This is my first ever attempt at Han/Leia. I really hope its readable.

His dreams were blank: static visions of blurred images and white noise. But as it slowly fell away, leaving the bitter sound in his ears to nothing more than the quiet hum of the Falcon’s engines, Han kept his eyes shut. It had been easy not to worry about his eyesight earlier; they had had bigger things to worry about at the time. But now, lying in his bunk, he wondered whether the carbonite had taken more than time from him. 

Wincing, he opened one eye. He saw the roof of his bunk, the worn metal of his Falcon. Han felt like crowing, felt like punching the air. He loved his girl dearly, but in that moment he had never been so happy to see her. As he shifted in his bunk, hand reaching up to trace the scarred metal he could see with his own two eyes, he heard a soft sigh beside him. 

_Leia._

She shared the cramped bunk with him, her small hand resting against his chest. Han settled back down, staring at the woman tucked in beside him. He’d seen Leia as the Princess of Alderaan; seen her in snowsuits in the cold depths of Hoth. He’d seen her frown and her lips purse, he’d seen her smile brighter than any sun he’d flown past. He had watched her from afar, and seen her passion up close. But nothing compared to now. 

Her long brown hair was tied in a messy plait running down her back, a few strands curling loose across her forehead. With deft fingertips, Han brushed them away from her face. He watched the soft rise and fall of her chest as she took in a breath; watched her lips part. He traced the curve of her ear; was hypnotised by her eyelashes fluttering against her skin. Travelling from one end of the galaxy to the other, he’d seen some pretty incredible things. He’d long known that Leia Organa was the only sight worth seeing. This moment just confirmed it. 

Small, clipped nails clutched at the fabric of his shirt. He watched a shadow cross over her features; the moment of serenity forgotten as a nightmare slipped inside. Her forehead furrowed, her lips curling up as her mind tried to fight the demons that haunted her. Han stroked the top of her head, pressing his cracked lips to her temple. He watched with eager eyes, hoping to see the shadows fade into the black. 

Dark, familiar eyes snapped open. They were unsettled, unsure, for a brief few seconds. Then they settled on him. Han wondered if she shared a similar reaction to his upon seeing him. The same joy, the same pleasure. She’d probably seen prettier things than him as Princess of Alderaan. But as she looked up at him, Han realised that they both looked at the world a little differently now that they had the other. 

“Am I still dreaming?” 

Han shook his head. “No, no you’re awake.” The pads of his fingers brushed along her forehead. Her skin felt so smooth under his touch. When Leia smiled, his other hand had to reach across and trace the curve of her lips. “We’re both awake.” 

He felt her mouth widen under his touch. Her hands uncurled from between them, her soft fingertips resting atop his brow. “How are you feeling?”

“I can see you smile.” He didn’t need a better answer than that. 


	2. These Same Stars [A Rey Solo Story]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous prompted: "MARCH: Maybe something with Rey as Han and Leia's daughter?"
> 
> I love this theory so much, so I hope you enjoy this Anon! (Very mild spoilers for Force Awakens. Very mild)

When Rey was nothing more than a scrap of brown hair and fast feet, bedtime was the time for adventure. Vibrant stories of incredible adventures; told by her father as he knelt by her bedside. He’d leave her with a kiss to her forehead, tousling her hair once the stories were done. When the stars painted on her ceiling were not enough to send her to sleep, Rey would sneak out from under her sheets and go stare at the _real_ stars. 

Her mother, after years of war zones and emergency alarms, was a light sleeper. She on the balcony within seconds, sliding her hands under Rey’s arms to pick her up. If it had been a testing day, if both her mother and father had returned to their apartment in Coruscant weary, then she would be taken back to her room. But other nights her mother would gather her up in her arms, point up at the night sky, giving names to planets and stars that Rey tried to catch with her hands. 

When the nightmares came - and they did, more frequently and more vividly after her big brother went to train with Uncle Luke - Rey did not run out to the stars. She ran to safety in between her parents, climbing over the bed frame and settling between the two. She would be welcomed without a word; her mother’s arm placed across her to keep her safe, and her father’s hand stroking her hair to keep the nightmares at bay. Rey would suck in a few shudding breaths before the serenity of her parents lulled her to sleep. 

Her father would drift off soon after, his soft snores accompanying the gentle sound of Rey’s breathing. Her mother never slept. Not those nights. 

\--

Nights on the Falcon were light years away from her nights on Jakku. Chewie would cook after their work was done, and between mouthfuls of thick stew Han would tell the most incredible stories. Tales of his smuggling days, of his run-ins with Jabba the Hutt. Chewie would interject occasionally, whenever Han missed out an important detail or an embarrassing titbit. Rey had the distinct impression that he had told her these stories as a child. But now they were war stories. Rey was surprised to find that she had some of her own to tell. 

Her favourite stories, however, were about her mother. On the nights when they had been away from Base the longest, when they both felt the pinch of space creep up on them, Han would tell her about the old rebellion; about the missions he and Leia had gone on together. Rey would soak them up, savouring the memories of people she barely knew but loved wholeheartedly. Han would tousle her hair before she headed off to her bunk. Rey would lie there, replaying her favourite parts in her mind, as her fingertips brushed the stars carved into the metal above her. 

But even in the depths of space, the nightmares knew where to find her. She would sit up, soaked in sweat, her ears straining for the hum of the Falcon’s engine. She wasn’t back on Jakku. That gentle hum told her so. She slipped away from her bunk, padding in threadbare socks to the cockpit. Watching the stars rush by, sleep would eventually claim her. 

She always woke to find Han’s jacket draped across her and his disgruntled snores coming from the co-pilots seat.

\--

It was easy to keep busy when she was grounded on the Rebel Base. Fixing the Falcon (which took a lot of fixing), teaching Finn how to fly with Poe, and Jedi tutelage were all exhausting - if pleasant - activities. Ships she knew; salvage too. But Rey did not know anything about fighting a war or creating diplomatic solutions. Between fixing coils and coolant, Rey would occasionally sneak off to take part in her favourite activity. _Watching her mother._

Rey would stand in the doorway and watch the General work: checking operation plans, battle readouts. She was graceful, but with a bite of steel if you crossed her wrongly. She missed nothing, saw everything. Even when Rey didn’t want to disturb her, even when she hid in the shadows just to watch, Leia always found her. She would beckon her in, hand outstretched and eventually sliding over the small of her back to keep her close. Rey would ask questions. Questions about worlds she had never seen, people she had never met. Leia never faltered, never dampened her curiosity. They would talk until she was needed, and then talked some more. It was wonderful. 

But the shadows found her easier on the Rebel Base. With no hum of the Falcon’s engines to distract her, it took Rey longer to realise that she was safe. She could still feel the biting wind of Jakku on her cheeks; the feel of the sand against her hands as she begged Leia and Han to come back, to not leave her again. 

She never wanted to disturb her, but when the dreams were too vivid, Rey crossed the base to find Leia’s room. She’d barely knocked once before the door had opened. “Bad dreams?” 

“Yes.” 

She always waited to be chastised. It never came. “You’ll be okay in here. Come on in.” 

They talked little, Rey not wanting to discuss her nightmares with Leia. She knew she would offer comfort, but she also knew that they would hurt her too. How many nights had she dreamt of her children being taken from her? But, as she laid beside her, Rey found some sort of peace. She felt her mothers hand press against hers, holding her close. Even as she slept, she never let go.

In the early hours of the morning, Rey felt footsteps creep into the room. 

“You okay, kid?” 

Rey nodded, seeing the glint of Han’s smile in the dim light. He settled fully clothed against the sheets, his head resting on the pillow next to hers. He watched her mother for a while, his wife, with a smile. Then, he, too, fell asleep. 

When Rey dreamt, she dreamt of stars. 


	3. At First Glance [Pre-Series AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JANUARY (or maybe FEBRUARY): You once posted about wanting a scene in the Han Solo movie where Han sees Leia. Could you write that? Pretty please?

Han Solo would be glad to see the back of this job  _and_ this planet. The last few days had been tense; dodging bullets and ducking fists from the moment they landed till the early hours of this morning. But Jabba’s merchandise was safely stowed in the belly of the _Falcon_. Now he could relax a little; even daydream about what he was going to spend this pay day on. Maybe he could take in a few races; even get a few spare parts for the _Falcon_. He told Chewie of his plans of sitting back with a glass of something expensive and blowing a few credits on the track. 

His bubble lasted until his old friend reminded him that the money from this job would be paying off their most recent debt to Jabba the Hutt. 

“Fine, _fine,_ spoil my fun.” Han slouched, the image of him relaxing in the sun quickly replaced by the harsh winds of Tattoine. “But the next job, Chewie, _the next job.”_

Of course, they had to get through this one first. Their luck continued to fail them, however, as on their approach to the space port Han counted at least six extra security guards that hadn’t been there the previous morning. That was _not_ a good sign. Han and Chewie exchanged nervous glances as they approached. His fingertips grazed the butt of his blaster. He couldn’t lose another shipment. Not when they’d been so close.

“Hold it right there.”

They were patted down by security; one of the guards flinching when Chewie growled his discomfort. As the guard patted down Han’s sides, he caught sight of the _Falcon_ in the distance. So. Close. “Something happen in the city?” The guard currently pulling Han’s blaster out of his holster squinted. “The extra security.” 

“Oh, that.” The guard shrugged. “The Alderaanian royal family’s just docked. Security’s extra tight after some assassination attempt last week.”

Han bobbed his head, not really caring. They weren't here for him, and that was all that mattered. The guard had to confiscate his blaster, but Han considered that a small price to pay for leaving the planet with his cargo intact. 

“Have a safe trip.” 

He grinned. “Oh, we will.”

Nodding at the guards as they passed, Han and Chewie walked as fast as they could to the _Falcon_ without drawing any overt attention to themselves. Even after getting through security, Han wouldn’t feel secure until they were off world. Whilst Chewie went up the ramp to start the pre-flight checks, Han decided to make one final look over the docking bay to check that they were in the clear. 

It was then that he caught sight of the Alderaanian royal family. He recognised the Senator from holovids he caught whenever they flew into the central systems. Which, admittedly, wasn’t that often. He didn’t recognise the woman, but it was clear who she was. Elegant, regal, the Queen could command the attention of the room without even a word. _Hell,_ her mere presence made Han want to stand up straight. Security buzzed around them, sheltering them from any would-be attackers. However, they didn’t do well enough to hide the young princess from view.

She carried herself like her mother. Chin raised, shoulders back. Eyes taking in everything. Cute, too, if you liked that sort of thing. Her dark eyes shifted from assessing the guards to her left, swivelling in his direction. If she was surprised by his attention, she didn’t show it. She held his gaze, watching him stare across the docking bay. Cute wasn’t really the right word. _Pretty._ If you liked that sort of thing. 

The Princess continued to stare, brow furrowing as if unsure what to make of him. Smirking, Han winked at her. Her bottom lip fell open before curling into a flash of a smile. Gone in seconds, but worth it. A brief roll of dark eyes. Then the Princess picked up her heels to join the rest of her family. 

Chewie growled behind him, something about getting off his ass to help. “Yeah, yeah. Hey, maybe we should stay a few more days.” Han didn’t have to turn round to see the look of disapproval the Wookie was giving him. “I know, I know, we’ve got to pay back Jabba.” 

Another growl. “Hey, I _know_ that. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the beautiful things in life.”

As Chewie headed back into the Falcon, Han let himself have one final look at the Princess. She really _was_ beautiful. Too bad girls like that didn’t hang around men like him. Puffing out a breath, Han headed up the ramp. Time to go visit Tattoine. 


	4. Surprise Vacation [Movie AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: "CLUBS: Feel like maybe doing that Six Days, Seven Nights AU?"

Leia Organa hadn’t seen the _need_ to go on vacation. Her twin brother, however, had thought otherwise. Luke had surprised her with the vacation plans during one of their monthly dinners, saying it would do her good to get away for a few days. He presented a good case, mentioning how late she had been working and how often she had missed their weekly phone calls. In his final move, Luke played the ‘ _we’ll finally get to spend some time together’_ card. With Leia living and working in D.C, and Luke currently working out of Los Angeles, she did miss her brother. So she’d said yes. 

But as Leia stood in a South Pacific airport, arms crossed over her chest, she was regretting her decision to accompany her brother on vacation. 

“Hey, come on, this’ll be fun!” Luke threw an arm around her shoulders. “When was the last time we did anything together, huh? We’ll get to go scuba diving, swim in the ocean, maybe even do some hang-gliding. It’ll be great, I promise!”

Leia slid her sunglasses down her nose. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Luke grinned. “Sure. Well I’m gonna go find our bags. Do you want to go find the charter plane?” 

“Okay.”

Her brother was full of boundless energy as he went off in search of their luggage. Leia, on the other hand, dug in the pocket of her shorts in search of her cell phone. She was waiting for news of a bill she was supporting, hoping it would pass. In an ideal world, she would be waiting in her office for news. Not in an airport waiting to be flown away to some island paradise. 

With no news yet, Leia slid the phone back into her pocket and went off in search of that charter plane. Outside the airport, Leia raised a hand to shield her eyes from the harsh sun. Twenty four hours ago, her pumps had been sinking into half frozen puddles. Stepping further into the bright sunshine, Leia couldn’t find anything resembling the charter planes in the brochure. There was a plane to her left; a beaten up grey and white plane currently being serviced by two men. Never hurt to ask. 

“Excuse me? I’m looking for _Tropical Charters_?”

One of the men cursed; his spanner dropping to the ground in the process. He turned, his brow knotted at being interrupted during his work. But his forehead suddenly smoothed, his lips forming a cocky smile as he saw who had disturbed him. 

“We are, sweetheart. Well...” The man shoved his hands in the pockets of his overalls, his smug smirk shining in her direction. “Their plane is undergoing some repairs. We’re filling in. This here’s the  _Millennium Falcon._ Fastest plane you’ll ever see.”

Leia looked along the length of the plane. “You actually _fly_ this bucket of bolts?” 

“Hey!” The man took a step in her direction, one finger pointing in her face and the other gesturing to the plane behind him. “The _Falcon’s_ a good plane. Will get you where you need to go, Princess, safe and sound. Don’t worry.” 

His words did little to ease her worry. The plane looked like it had seen better days two crash landings ago. “May I ask who the _pilot_ is?”

The smirk that had faded after she insulted his plane came back with a vengeance. “That would be _me,_ sweetheart. Han Solo. Best pilot you’ll ever fly with.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Solo frowned, his face furrowing as he returned to attending his plane. He shot daggers at her after every screw he tightened, after every drop of oil slid over his hands. Leia turned her head lest she get drawn into another argument with the man. After a couple of minutes, she caught sight of Luke carrying his old duffel and her suitcase. He waved wildly, his smile unable to be tamed. 

“Boyfriend?” asked a snide voice to the side of her. It was  _Solo,_ having shucked his overalls and wearing nothing but a white shirt and dark shorts. 

She glared at him. “Not that it’s _any_ concern of yours, Mister Solo, but he happens to be my brother.”

Luke came bounding over, dropping their luggage softly to the ground. He smiled at Han. Her brother didn’t know any better yet. “Hey, you found the charter?”

Crossing her arms, Leia gave a slight jerk of her head in the direction of the _Falcon_ behind her. Luke’s eyes widened. “This piece of junk?”

“HEY!” Solo stormed over, his finger held out in front of his face again. After a few seconds he seemed to calm down, regaining some of his composure. “Listen, Princess, if the _Falcon_ isn’t good enough for you and your brother here, there’s a boat that’ll take you to the island. ‘Course it takes three days. Your call. Let me know when you’ve decided.” 

He stormed off, muttering something about oil and a new spanner. Luke let out a puff of breath at the sight of the Falcon. He knew more about mechanics and planes than she did. If he was concerned, that would only add to her unease about this surprise vacation. But Luke just nodded. “It’ll be fine. Another adventure, huh?”

“Wonderful.” 

As Luke started talking to the other man assisting with the plane, Solo’s co-pilot, Leia took the moment to check her phone. _No messages._ Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought. A few days away with her brother could never be _bad._ She was just grateful that after the plane journey, she would never have to see Han Solo again. 


	5. Interruptions [Set between ANH & ESB]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: "FEBRUARY - something between ANH and ESB?"
> 
> Okay, this is set between ANH and ESB. Just something a little fun (and a little dirty - lets just say Leia needs to learn how to knock). Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Han Solo had just finished another patrol and was looking forward to crashing out on his bunk for a while. They were at the tail end of setting up the new Resistance base; but until all the sensors and defences were fully functioning, tensions were high. Han usually brushed that sort of attitude off, but constantly being surrounded by it was getting under his skin. He would be glad to leave this base behind and get on with his life once more. Soon. Once everything was up and running. 

He waved to Chewie as he approached the _Falcon;_ the Wookie repairing the damage that had occurred during their last supply run. “How’s it coming?” 

A growl. 

“That good, huh?” Han rubbed the back of his head. “Okay, well I’m going back to the bunks for a bit. No interruptions. I don’t care if Vader himself turns up. I need to get some sleep.” 

Chewie nodded, immediately returning to his work on the _Falcon._ Han strode up the ramp, patting the metal walls of his girl as he climbed inside. She would hold together. She always did. A couple more weeks, then they could pay off Jabba with the reward money in the hold and head on out. They’d already overstayed their welcome. 

Banging his palm against the cabin door, Han immediately began to peel off layers. He could do with a long spell in the ‘fresher, just to wipe the layer of dust from his skin. He’d thought Tatooine was bad. But his bunk seemed like a better prospect, as did the few hours sleep he could steal before his presence was required. Tugging off his shirt, Han threw himself down on the bunk. 

He sucked in a few breaths, hoping the overwhelming exhaustion he felt would send him quickly to sleep. Instead, he found himself opening one eye and staring at the ceiling. The tension on the base had followed him into his bunk. At least he knew a sure fire way to relieve tension and help him get off to sleep. 

Spitting in his palm, Han slid one hand into the now open fly of his pants. His palm felt warm against his cock, and Han pressed his head back against the hard pillow as he started to touch himself. He tried to think of the last time he had been in one of those dancing joints. The images were faded; losing colour in his mind. But Han clung on, trying to remember a couple of the girls he’d enjoyed watching dance. 

But, like always, his thoughts strayed in another direction. _Leia._

She drove him crazy. Every word, every argument, got under his skin and stayed there for hours. Han wondered if she knew what she did to him, how crazy she made him. He pictured the splash of light in her dark eyes, the way her lips curled when she smiled. Or when she yelled at him...both made him crazy. Han thought about the soft strands of dark hair escaping her elaborate styles, curling against her cheek. 

He let the image of the Princess hang there in his mind. Nothing more. He’d daydreamed plenty of fantasies about her before; most of them pushing her up against the nearest wall to see what her lips tasted like. But it felt wrong to fantasise about her when he was doing _this._ So he just kept the picture. 

As Han felt the pressure building, the door to the bunks suddenly opened. All he saw was a flash of white and an undignified yelp he recognised before the door slammed shut. Jolted and surprised, Han tried to do three things at once. He ended up no closer to the door and his fly still open, but now lying on the floor. After taking a quick moment to breathe and find a shirt, Han threw open the door in search of the intruder. 

“Didn’t they teach you how to _knock_ at the Palace, sweetheart?”

Leia, wearing an amusing shade of crimson, turned from her retreating position to glare at him. He should have let her walk away, let her flush red every time she saw him for the next few days. But she’d barged in on him on _his_ ship. _Dammit,_ he could have been doing something embarrassing. Like calling out her name. They needed to establish some damn boundaries. 

“Well?” Han said, hands outstretched. “Come on, Princess. What is it? Must have been pretty _damn_ important not to even bother _knocking_. Or were you hoping you’d find me in such a state.”

Leia made a disgruntled snarl, her forehead knotting as she continued to glare at him. He’d pissed her off. _Good._ “General Rieekan wanted me to pass on his thanks for your latest mission. I couldn’t find you or Chewbacca _anywhere._ If I’d known you were in here...you were in here...”

Han smiled, taking one step forward. “Go on, _say it._ I was in there...doing what, Princess? You found me doing what?”

“Shirking your responsibility. You’re on _duty._ ”

“No.” Han smirked. “I’m off the clock, your Highness. So I decided to relieve some tension and jerk off in my cabin. On _my_ ship. Which _you_ interrupted.” 

Leia’s mouth fell open, obviously struggling for a response. He felt a little mean about embarrassing her like this. But she and Luke seemed to see his ship as just another extension of the Rebel Base. _They needed boundaries_. Leia was still turning red, the tops of her ears even going a little pink. Han approached slowly, leaning in to Leia’s space. Even looking like she was about to break his nose, she was still the most beautiful thing from here all the way to the Outer Rim. 

“It’s a good way to relieve stress. You’re looking pretty _tense_ yourself, Princess. If you _want,_ I could give you a little one on one tutoring.”

Han was disappointed when she didn’t fluster. Instead she pushed up against him, her lips curling in a smirk to match his own. “Thank you for the offer, Captain. But if I was looking for a tutor, it would be with one who’d had at least _some_ success with other pupils.”

“Is that so?”

Leia pressed one hand against his chest, pushing him back. “Good day to you, Captain. Maybe next time, you can lock your door before you engage in any perversity?”

“It’s my ship!”

Although he’d got the last word in, it was Leia who'd had the last laugh. Han slammed his hand against the side of the Falcon as he watched her walk away. _Lock his door,_ indeed _._ Hopefully, after this, the Princess would be spending a little less time on the _Falcon._ Little less time around him. The more he saw her, the more he wanted to stay. 

Unable to sleep now, Han decided to help Chewie with the repairs. At least this way, they would be ready to leave whenever he was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel can be found at chapter 10 of this collection.


	6. Take My Hand [A Rey Solo Story]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han teaches his daughter how to dance. [Set post TFA]

Han cursed as the hydrospanner slipped out of his grasp and fell to the floor of the docking bay. He sucked the width of his finger between his lips, hoping to reduce the sting. Working on the _Falcon_ had always been easier with two people, and most recently with three. But Chewie was elsewhere, and Rey’s presence has been _requested._ So Han had been left to fix the latest damage the _Falcon_ had suffered; the job thankfully providing an easy distraction.

“Solo!”

Looking across the hangar, Han saw Finn running over to see him. He liked the kid; he was good company. It was just a shame that he only seemed to come around when Rey was there. “Everything okay, kid?”

“Rey needs to see you.”

The hydrospanner Han had just retrieved dropped from his fingers. “Is she okay?” His tone thickened; almost growling with every syllable. “ _What happened?_ ”

Finn shrugged. “I’m not sure. She was getting ready for tonight and then she just needed to see you.”

Nodding, Han dropped what he was doing and trailed after Finn into the belly of the new Resistance base. They’d moved half a dozen times since Han had rejoined the rebellion, but this was the first time that Rey had been given quarters of her own rather than camping out on the _Falcon_ with him. He was too proud to admit it, but he missed seeing his daughter every morning. It was too easy to slip into bad habits. Too easy to forget she was really there. 

“Rey,” Han announced, knuckles rapping on her door. “Everything okay?”

The blast door slid open with a hiss, and a small hand reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt. 

“Thanks Finn!” 

The door closed behind them, and Han’s shirt was returned to its normal state. He blinked a few times, trying to reconcile the image in front of him. _A dress._ Rey was wearing a dress. No doubt donated by one of the resistance fighters, the kid looked incredibly uncomfortable in the dark blue attire. But she looked _beautiful._ Han was suddenly swept up in old memories of their apartment in Coruscant; of a little girl running away in nothing but her underwear rather than wearing the dress required for the gala that evening. 

“Is it supposed to be this uncomfortable?” Rey asked, pulling down the hem a little more. She rolled her shoulders, trying to find some comfortable place for the fabric to settle. 

Han nodded. “I think so. Your mother would be a better judge than me. She get caught up?”

“Huh?” Rey said, twirling in a circle. “Oh, _no._ I wanted to ask _you_ about tonight. I could have asked her, but...Han, I don’t want to disappoint her at the party.”

Things had been going well for the Rebellion. A series of strategic victories; the death of General Hux. Some had suggested capitalising on that momentum by hosting a party to cement morale. Leia, royal poster child for both the former old and new Republic, would be the guest of honour. As her only child that wasn’t currently serving the First Order, Rey would be under similar scrutiny.

Han rested his hands upon her shoulders, watching as his daughter burst into a smile. His fingers grazed the side of her face. “You could _never_ disappoint her. She’s had to deal with me for all this years, and I _hate_ these things. You’ll be fine.”

Rey nodded. “Thanks. Another thing, though...you wouldn’t by any chance know how to dance?”

He snorted. “Not well.” The look on his daughter’s face told him that that was not the answer she had been hoping for. “But I know a little. Enough to get you through tonight. Here. Take my hand.”

Rey slid one hand in his, and Han put her other on his shoulder. He wiped his oil stained fingers on his pants before holding her waist. Be a shame to get that new dress all messy. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna step forward, you’re gonna take one step back. Okay?”

“Okay.”

There had been a dance elective at the Imperial Academy a thousand moons ago, but Han didn’t remember much. He _did_ remember a long night on a Rebellion base, where the last Princess of Alderaan taught him how to dance. He remembered the feel of her slight hand in his; how he’d almost been afraid to touch her. He’d been worried about getting oil on her dress too. She had been patient with him, even when he’d teased her. Back then it was nothing more than a flirtation.Now he was teaching their daughter those same steps. 

“That’s it, you’re getting it.” Rey was a quick study. “Okay, now move your feet to the side. Nice and easy.”

Rey grinned. “This isn’t half bad. Who taught you? Chewie?”

“Leia.” She beamed at the mention of her mother. “She was much better at it than me.”

“I don’t know, I think you’re doing pretty well.”

They walked through another couple of steps until they were moving very well across the cramped space of Rey’s quarters. It would be enough, he hoped. He wasn’t sure what else he could teach her. Han was thankfully saved from anything more complex by the sound of the buzzer. Rey squeezed his hand before rushing to answer it. 

“Well...” A long sigh. “Don’t you look beautiful.”

Leia took her daughter’s hands within hers, taking a step back to admire her. She was beautiful. _Just like her mother._ Han tried to sink into the background, not wanting to intrude on the moment between mother and daughter. But Leia’s gaze caught his; her smile not wavering even for a moment. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Han was just teaching me how to dance.”

Leia smiled warmly. “I remember the first time he tried that. You were so small, you had to stand on his boots.” 

Rey twisted to stare at her father. He’d forgotten that afternoon. They had been on the _Falcon,_ with Chewie offering constructive criticism between each song. “You’re a little bigger now.” 

“Just a little.” Leia took her daughter’s hands once more and placed a small box atop them. “Something for tonight. It was mine, back when I was your age. I thought you’d like to wear it. If you want to, of course.”

“Of _course_!”

Rey snapped open the box, fingers brushing the silver chain inside. She ran to the mirror, immediately pulling it around her neck. Han found himself unable to tear his eyes away, and he knew Leia felt the same. For the longest time, any memories of their youngest had been tainted by what had happened. Every moment now was a gift. For Rey, every snippet of her past seemed to erase a tiny moment from the years on Jakku. 

Han pushed away from the wall to join his wife. Things were not quite what they once were between them. Even after rejoining the Rebellion and sharing the same space, they were not exactly back together. Maybe, one day. “I think she’ll do okay.”

“Of course. She’ll do _wonderfully.”_ Leia swallowed; her dark eyes fixing upon Han. “Are you coming tonight?” 

He scratched the side of his jaw. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there.” 

“You’re my husband. I want you there.”

He paused. “Then I’ll be there.”

The last time they had attended a party together had been a couple of months before... _before._ They had danced, snuck off into host’s garden for a brief moment just the two of them, and then come home to their daughter. Tonight, Han would get to dance with his wife again after all these years, and watch their daughter smile and laugh. 

It had taken some time. But things were finally starting to feel _right_ again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	7. His Favourite Adventure [A Rey Solo Story]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Leia working in the Senate, Han takes his daughter out for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachsolo prompted: "Rey as a little girl going on adventures with Han." I hope you enjoy this!

“Han, have you seen the files I need for my meeting this afternoon?”

Dropping the spanner in his hand, Han reached behind him to hold up the files Leia had left on the back of their couch the night before. His wife brushed past him, screwing in a set of earrings, and quickly took the files from his outstretched hand. Han went back to his work, rebuilding the engine on their lounge table. He was trying hard not to get oil on the soft furnishings, but the throw pillow behind him was already a lost cause. 

Leia continued to rush through their apartment, making sure she had everything. Although her work had long days, and sometimes even longer nights, he was exceptionally proud of the work she was doing. Building a better galaxy for Ben and Breha. 

“Daddy, what are you doing?”

Han sunk his hands under his daughter’s armpits and gathered her into his lap. He pointed at the engine he was working on. “I’m trying to rebuild this engine. See the scoring here? I’m hoping to bypass that damage.”

Rey nodded, her little head bouncing up and down as she took on what her father was saying. She was fascinated by engines; loved it when she got to play on the _Falcon_ with him and Uncle Chewie. Sometimes Han was disappointed he’d stopped racing just before Rey was born. She’d have _loved_ it. 

Leia dropped back into their orbit, kneeling down to press a kiss to Rey’s forehead. “I’ll be back later, okay sweetheart?”

Rey nodded. “You look pretty Mommy.”

“She always does.” Han reached forward, hand brushing Leia’s cheek, to steal a kiss. He felt the slight gloss of her lipstick against his mouth, and when he pulled away there was a slight smear of engine grease just beside her ear. “My apologies, your highness. I think I’ve got you all dirty.”

“I’ll survive.” Another kiss. “I love you. I love you too, sweetheart.”

With a swish of robes, Leia swept out the door of their Coruscant apartment. After a moment, Han returned to the engine in front of him. Rey tried to help, small fingers getting greasy right alongside his. He treasured these moments. Ben had liked playing adventures with him, but had never really cared much for engines, mechanics. When his Jedi powers had awakened, becoming a Jedi was all he had wanted to be. 

Rey, as young as she was, wanted to be a pirate like her Daddy. 

“What do you want to do today, huh, sweetheart?” Han asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. “Want to help Daddy fix this?” 

She shook her head. “Can we play a game?”

“Sure thing; what game do you want to play?”

“Racers! Then ice cream.”

That sounded like a pretty good way to spend the day to him. “Okay, let’s do it. Want to call Uncle Chewie?”

“YES!”

Rey bounced off his knee, heading for the comm system so she could call for Uncle Chewie to join them on their day out. Chewie was her favourite Uncle. She had only met Luke a handful of times; Leia’s brother busy on Yavin IV with Ben and the other Jedi students. Uncle Lando was always fun, but no one was better than Chewie. She always jumped into his arms as soon as she saw the Wookie. Today was no exception.

“Uncle Chewie!” Rey snuggled into him as soon as he arrived. “We’re gonna play Racers!”

Chewie growled. Han rolled his eyes as he joined them, wiping his hands on a rag. “I know it’s not your favourite game, but that’s what Rey wants to play! Come on, I’ll treat everyone to ice cream afterwards.”

That seemed to placate the Wookie, and they all piled onto the port and the small ship that carted them around the city. Han made sure that Rey was buckled up at the back, but that she could still see out at all the wonders Coruscant had to offer. That was part of the game: Han would fly around for a while, Rey would think that they were racing. It was a fun game, as long as Rey couldn’t reach the controls. 

They’d learnt that lesson the hard way. 

“Okay, kid, you ready to go?”

“Ready!”

Chewie growled beside him.

Han grinned. “Okay, here we go!”

He started the engine, taking off from the port smoothly into the lanes of Coruscant traffic. It had taken some time, but he’d got used to the planet. Han was used to jumping around from port to port, Rebellion base to Rebellion base. But this was _home._ Leia and Rey were here. Of course it was home. 

Han glanced behind him at his daughter’s smiling face, watching her take in the city in all its glory. Further behind, a speed racer suddenly zipped over them, clipping the roof. Han opened his mouth to shout and spit a curse in the moron’s direction, but Chewie let out a low moan in protest. He was right. _Not with Rey on-board._ Still, Han dropped down to thread through another lane, picking up speed as the mid morning traffic fell away. 

A long growl from his co-pilot. “I am _not.”_

Rey pushed her head between the seats, her brown hair brushing the Wookie’s fur. “Mommy says he goes too fast too.”

Han glared at his daughter. “I thought we were playing Racers? Just who’s side are you on?”

A giggle from the back seat. “I thought we were going to get ice cream.”

 _Just like her mother._ Han couldn’t help the smirk as he turned left down a main lane towards a dessert bar he knew pretty well. They’d get ice cream, then maybe head off to the _Falcon_ to see how she was doing. He missed his girl. One of these days, when things were calm, he’d take Leia and Rey on a long flight. Swing by Yavin IV and pick up Ben. The Solos in the _Falcon._ Nothing more perfect than that. 

They sat out on the kerb, Rey smearing chocolate ice cream all over her mouth and cheeks. Chewie made some comment about _like father, like daughter_ that Han chose to ignore. He just wrapped his arms around his little girl, stealing the occasional spoonful. 

“Daddy, tell me a story.”

“Okay, what kind of story?”

Rey thought for a moment. “Tell me bout your _favourite_ adventure.”

Han grinned. “Well that’s an easy one, kid. Me and Chewie here were on Tatooine when we got hired to take this kid and this old guy to Alderaan. Things got a little dicey, we ended up captured by some pretty bad people. But it worked out okay, because I rescued your Mommy.”

“Didn’t she rescue you?”

Chewie sniggered besides them on the kerb. Han sighed. “Yeah, yeah, _I guess_ she did. _A little_. One time she rescued the hell out of me. But that’s a story for when you’re older. _Much_ older.”

Rey nodded, happy with his story. She returned to her ice cream, chewing with her mouth open. All three of them watched the city pass them by. Politics, back room deals...everything happened in Coruscant. Once upon a time, Han would have longed to be back in his own rat race. Smuggling lanes, outer rim ports. But he was happy with the path he had chosen. His life with Leia, with Rey and Ben, was his favourite adventure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	8. Wednesday's Child [A Rey Solo Story]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of them wanted to hope. But it was a question that needed answering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompted ‘Leia and Han finding out Rey is their long lost daughter’. Hope you like it!

Han Solo sat in the cockpit of the _Millennium_   _Falcon,_ fingers clasped around a glass of Corellian whiskey. He stared out at the quiet hanger bay, seeing only a few souls milling around. The last time he had sat like this, staring out onto a Resistance base with half a bottle already down his gullet, he had been thinking about the dark-haired force of nature that was the last Princess of Alderaan. Now, older but perhaps not wiser, it was their daughter that occupied his thoughts. 

She had been so small. Scrappy little thing, with dark hair like her mother and his infectious smile. They hadn’t thought of having another. Leia was rebuilding the New Republic, and he was spending his days racing. But Leia had fallen pregnant, and both of them had been so excited. _Breha._ After her grandmother. At the time, Han had been so relieved that she had not shown any signs of the Force like Ben had. It had broken his heart to lose his son. He couldn’t lose his daughter too.

In the end, he had lost everything.

Footsteps echoed in the halls of the _Falcon,_ and Han quickly drained his glass. He didn’t want Chewie to chastise him for drinking alone in the dark. Nor did he want Rey or Finn to see him like this. But as the footsteps came nearer, he felt his heart pull. He would never claim to be Force sensitive. But he _knew_ Leia.

“Room for another?” she asked as she made her appearance in the doorway of the cockpit.

Han’s smile was weak, faded. But he hoped it seemed bright to her. “Always room for you.”

Leia took the co-pilots seat, and for a moment it was like she had never left. They were on the F _alcon,_ in love, and the war had not taken as much as it had. But then the moment was gone. Her dark hair, shorter than Han had ever seen it, fell over her shoulders. Dark eyes that held so much fire were soft in the thin light of the _Falcon._ No guards, no walls. Not in _their_ place.

“You want a drink?” Leia nodded. He filled the tumbler with two fingers of whiskey and passed his sole glass to her. He took a large gulp from the rim of the bottle. “How’s the mood out there?”

“Hopeful. Always is after a big victory.” Leia raised the glass to her lips. “I think I’m too old for hope.”

Han wanted to reach out for his wife; to rest his hand against the curve of her neck and ease the burden she carried. She had been fighting this same war since she was nineteen years old. For a brief moment, a flicker of time, there _had_ been hope. Then it had been snuffed out with the blade of a lightsaber. Their son: lost to the dark side. Their daughter: her body never recovered as the Jedi temple burned. Hope was not something they could hold onto any more. Yet something still flickered. 

“Do you remember, after Breha-” Han left the thought unsaid. “Do you remember how sure you were that she wasn’t gone?”

Leia bowed her head. “I remember. It was the oddest sensation. I felt the same as a child: something missing, some other part of me somewhere. When I was a child, it was Luke. Maybe it was Luke that time too, rather than Breha.” Leia drained the rest of her glass. “This is about the girl, isn’t it? Rey?”

Han shifted in his seat. “I’m not the only one, am I?”

“No, you’re not.” Leia sighed, reaching out for the bottle. “The first time I saw her, I felt that pull. I watch Rey smile, and I’m seeing the face of our daughter. But I’m just seeing what I want to see.” 

“I see it too. She’ll pass me a tool, she’ll fly this ship...I see Breha in everything she does.” 

“Han...”

He knew, in his heart, that he should drop this discussion. Let Rey wonder about her parents, let them both grieve their children in peace. But he couldn’t let it go. He could never undo what was done, maybe their bond could never be what it once was. But he wanted to give her hope. Even if it was just a flicker.

“Has Luke said anything?”

“No. But he looks at her like I do. Like I’ve seen a ghost.” Leia reached for the bottle again, but this time Han reached for her. He laced their fingers, his thumb caressing her skin. She couldn’t look at him. “I can’t do this, Han.”

“I know.”

His grip fell away, leaving them both to their sides of the cockpit. They sat, unmoving, not talking, until Leia slipped away into the quiet of the _Falcon_. Han took another swallow of whiskey, before leaving the bottle to one side. He traced the path his wife had made, stopping by to check the bunks as he did every night. Rey slept restlessly under thin sheets; unused to the coolness of the cabin. 

“Who are you, kid?”

Struck once more by Rey’s resemblance to his daughter, Han decided he could no longer take it. He needed answers. _He needed to know._ Hell, he wouldn’t love the kid any less. But if she was Breha...

Han left the _Falcon_ with purpose, heading down the gangplank in search of the base’s science division. They’d only set up shop a few days ago, but they should have the important things up and running. He was grateful that the halls were quiet, and he slipped into the room undetected. There was one technician on duty. Han cleared his throat to get her attention. 

“Oh, Captain Solo! I didn’t see you there...is there something I can help you with?”

Han gestured to the computer systems all around them. “You have records on everyone, right? Blood type and that sort of thing?”

The technician nodded. “Yes, sir. In case of blood transfusion or something similar we have everyone’s blood type and DNA patterning on record.”

“You have Rey?” Another nod. “Could you compare her pattern to mine?”

She looked confused, but thankfully did not question his request. “I could, Captain. But I don’t have yours on file. As you’re not officially part of the Resistance-”

“Well sign me up.” Han began rolling up his sleeve, offering his arm to the technician. “Go on.”

He didn’t want to trust Force visions and hunches. Not for this. The technician told him it would take a few hours, and that she could have the results sent over to the _Falcon_ when they were completed. But Han opted to wait, sitting against the cold walls of the base. He knew this was necessary. But as the prospect of _knowing_ became a reality, he realised he would miss the uncertainty. _The possibility._

Sometime in the night, Han fell asleep. He was woken by the sensation of someone brushing their fingers through his hair. He blinked once, twice, his gaze settling on Leia beside him. Her lips pressed against his, a _good morning_ kiss that Han hadn’t realised how much he had desperately missed until she was touching him again. She pulled back all too soon, but her hands still cradled his face. 

“Leia, I-”

“I know.” Her forehead rested against his. “Come on, we need to get up.”

This was the first time they had been so close in years. Han didn’t want to move. “Why?”

“Because we have to talk to our daughter.”

 _Our daughter._ Han stared at Leia, who’s eyes were mirrors of the young woman currently sleeping aboard the _Falcon. Our daughter._ Leia held him close, her fingertips brushing day old stubble  _Our daughter._ The small spark in his chest engulfed into a flame. _Our daughter. Our Rey._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	9. Counting the Days (A Rey Solo Story)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They knew the truth. It was time Rey did too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both thinkmanythingsofit & anon wanted to see Han and Leia tell Rey, so here we go! I am *loving* writing all these Rey Solo stories. I'm glad people are enjoying them!

It had been five days, nineteen hours, and thirteen minutes since Han Solo had learned that his daughter, the daughter he had thought lost forever, was still alive. 

In those five days, nineteen hours, and thirteen minutes, Han had tried no less than seven times to tell the young scavenger that he was her father. That the family she had been searching for were here, waiting for her. He and Leia had tried to tell Rey that first morning after they themselves had learnt the truth. But they had become overwhelmed, and the words had not come. 

Han pressed his head against the wall, straining his ears for the sound of his crew _._ He thought he could hear the muffled sound of Rey’s restless sleeping; the sound of her tossing and turning in the metal bunks. But it was just his imagination. The footsteps echoing throughout the Falcon, however, were not. 

A soft knock on the door. “Han, it’s me.”

He slid off his bunk immediately, pressing the button to release the door. It was the third time in recent days that Leia had come to him on the _Falcon._ A shared drink, a near kiss over official paperwork. Now a late night visit. He practically sagged with relief at the sight of her. 

“Not sleeping well?”

“I haven’t slept well in fourteen years.” Leia clasped her hands in front of her, ever the politician. “May I come in?”

Han nodded, immediately kicking his dirty laundry into the darkened corners of his bunk. She took post on the corner of his bed. The bed that had once been theirs; the room that had once been their home. She looked uncomfortable. Despite the moments that had occurred between them since Han had been thrust back into her life, he realised there was still a long way to go. 

“We need to tell her.”

“Got any suggestions?”

Leia looked up sharply, her dark eyes boring into his. Snapping at his wife was not the solution. But he’d been trying, dammit. He knew she had, too. Swallowing, Han sat beside Leia on his bunk. He sat closer than was deemed proper, but then Han had never been very good at all that. He just wanted her close. He needed her close. 

“This never came up in any of those parenting books I read before Ben.” No chapter titled ‘What to do if your son turns to the Dark Side’. No reading to answer the question ‘What to do if your long dead daughter turns up on your goddamn ship after fourteen years’. “Maybe I should write one.”

“Han.”

“I know.”

He felt a weight on his shoulder, and turned to see Leia resting against him. His lips grazed her temple, his fingers toyed with the loose strands of dark hair that had escaped her braid. He could feel it; the weight resting atop the woman he loved. It rested on him too. Worry, guilt, fear. To have her back was not to have her. He’d imagined countless conversations where the hate that bubbled through their son ran through Rey too. 

Wrapping both arms around his wife, Han held her as tight as he could. “We’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“No we won’t.”

No, they wouldn’t. _Not yet._

\--

It had been seven days, eight hours, and forty-three minutes since Han Solo had learned that the young woman currently cursing at his ship was the daughter he had long thought dead.

In those seven days, eight hours, and forty-three minutes, they had tried a further three times to talk to her. Rey had caught Leia leaving the _Falcon_ in the early hours, and what had seemed like an ideal opportunity for a quiet moment quickly faded as Rey gave them both a sheepish look and ran back to the bunks she shared with Finn. Han had attempted a father-daughter conversation that had been interrupted when one of the fuel lines began to leak. Leia, too, had tried. But the Rebellion had quickly required her attention. 

It was becoming harder and harder to spend time around Rey without wanting to be her father. Han watched his daughter, _his daughter,_ curse at the _Falcon_ before attacking it with the hydrospanner. He wanted to tell her off for cursing, he wanted to lean over and help her adjust the bolts of his ship. _Not yet. She’s not ready._

Rey lashed out again, kicking his ship in the process. “You really are garbage, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” Han called out, finally coming over. He patted the hull of his ship. “A little respect, kid.”

“Sorry, Han.”

Han cleared his throat, brushing off her words. “It’s okay, kid. But if you treat her with respect, most of the time she’ll give it to you back. She’s got me through some tough times. Get you through too.”

Rey nodded, looking back at the _Falcon_ with a soft smile. The first time she had laid eyes on the _Falcon,_ she had stared up at the ship with a pair of big brown eyes. Her little fingers had brushed where Rey touched now. Small fingers, tiny nails. Millions of fingerprints covered the outside of his ship, but Han recalled that one touch with perfect clarity. 

“Who are Ben and Breha?”

“ _What?”_

She turned from the Falcon, throat bobbing with nerves. “I saw their names carved into a bulkhead when I was deep cleaning. And lines, going up the wall.”

“Their height. We were seeing how tall they were. Chewie’s height’s up there too. Ben always wanted to be as tall as Chewie.”

“Your son.”

This was the discussion they had been waiting for. This was the way in. "Yes. My son. My daughter.”

Rey leant against the _Falcon,_ mind whirring.He could see she was making connections. He knew when she realised who his son was. Han wondered if she remembered the Jedi Temple when her brother had become swallowed by the darkness. He hoped and begged that she did not. “I’m sorry about your son.”

“Leia still thinks there’s hope. I’m not so sure.” The scar on his side was proof of that uncertainty; of his son’s devotion to the Dark. “Rey...”

“And Breha? Where is she?”

“Well...” _Here we go, Han. Don’t fuck this up. “_ She was at the Jedi Temple when it happened. We were _told_ that she died along with the others.”

“I’m so sorry.” Rey reached out, resting her hand atop Han’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Han. I shouldn’t have- I’m so sorry.”

Then she was gone. A flash of brown hair and the sound of footsteps up the ramp into the _Falcon._ Not quite the conversation he’d had in mind. But it was a step forward. A step towards the truth.

\--

It had been nine days, six hours, and twenty-two minutes since Han Solo had learned that Rey, who’s eyes were mirrors of her mother and had a smile as charming as his, was his daughter.

In those nine days, six hours, and twenty-two minutes, Rey had pulled away. Whilst once they had been close, Han teaching her everything he could about the _Falcon,_ she now operated at a distance. She watched him closely, intently, as if struggling to put her finger on something. But they barely spoke, as if to give him space after asking after his children. 

Today was no exception. They were watching across the hangar bay as General Organa gave a rousing speech to the pilots concerning their latest operation. Rey and Finn had stopped working, instead choosing to watch Leia. Rey seemed captivated by her. Han couldn’t blame her. 

“Hey, anyone gonna do any work around here?”

Finn coughed, immediately jumping up to restart the restocking. Rey didn’t move. Han took Finn’s place in watching Leia. She could command a room with a look, a whisper. 

“She’s amazing.”

“She is at that, kid.”

Rey leant over the cargo they were supposed to be lifting into the _Falcon,_ unable to tear her gaze away. “She was a good mother, wasn’t she?”

Han nodded once, twice. He was glad they were talking about this again. Maybe this time he could finally tell her. “She was incredible. She loved our kids so much. Still does.”

“Ben was going to be a Jedi, yes?” A nod. “Was Breha going to be a politician? Poe mentioned that General Organa used to be in the Senate.”

Han chuckled. “No, no, I don’t think so. Breha loved the _Falcon,_ loved helping me fix engine parts. As much as a five year old can help fix engine parts.”

Rey bobbed her head. “So the General would be okay if her daughter was a pilot, right? Or a mechanic? Or a scavenger?”

Han turned sharply towards his daughter. Her lips were pursed, her eyes burning straight ahead towards her mother. He recognised that expression. _Hope._ Rey was hoping to be found; hoping to have finally found her family. All the evidence was there. All that was left was confirmation, and the fear of it being nothing more than a thought, a wish. But in this case, it was _true._

"We’re just happy to have you home.”

Dark eyes screwed tight, hands clutching at the cargo boxes in front of her. “It’s true?”

He placed a gentle touch between her shoulder blades. “I’m not sure what happened. I’m not sure who to thank or curse for saving you from the Jedi temple and keeping you away from us for so many years. But you _are_ our daughter.”

“Breha.”

“That’s right. After your grandmother.”

Overwhelmed, Rey buried herself in the front of Han’s shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his daughter close. She was shaking in his arms, and Han felt himself shudder with nerves. But then, _Leia._ She approached, her briefing having ended. She pressed her hand against his jaw, then touched the top of their daughter’s head. Rey pulled herself away, smiling at her mother. 

“Hello.”

Leia beamed. “ _Hello.”_ She brushed an errant lock of dark hair away from her daughter’s face. “Oh, _Rey_ , I love you so much.”

“I know.” 

Smiling, Leia held her daughter’s face and brought her into an embrace. Han kissed the top of his daughter’s head, holding both his wife and child. _His family._ It had taken fourteen years, five months and twenty three days for his daughter to come home. But the time no longer mattered. _She was home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	10. Fantasy [Set between ANH & ESB]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia really should be quieter on the Falcon. Sequel to Interruptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to 'Interruptions', chapter five of this collection. A sequel was prompted by several people, including asdfcarrisontrahsghjkl. Hope you all enjoy it!

If there was one thing that Leia Organa hated, it was being treated like a china doll. As a child she had been rigorously protected, unable to do anything fun lest she graze her knee or a curl would fall out of place. Even in the middle of a war, those in the Resistance High Command were reluctant to have her do anything useful. She was a symbol, not a soldier. But that wasn’t enough for Leia.

It had taken some persuading, but she had eventually persuaded General Rikeean to let her accompany Captain Solo on a supply mission. Even then, they’d asked Captain Skywalker to accompany her as a chaperone, lest Solo sell her for spare parts or damage her virtue in some way. In reality, both men had been less than useless when the mission had gone sour. Honestly, if she hadn’t been there on the Death Star...

“Well, thank you for another _interesting_ adventure, Captain,” Leia said, standing up as she adjusted the cooling pack on her elbow. _A graze. How scandalous._ “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll spend the rest of our journey in my cabin.”

“Of _course,_ your Highness.” Han stood up, arm swinging forward as he descended in a mocking bow. “I hope your quarters are satisfactory _._ Let me know if Chewie forgot to leave a mint on your pillow.”

Leia wanted to retort, but was too tired to engage with him. So she simply  rolled her eyes and stormed off towards the bunks. It wasn’t _her_ fault that she got one of the cabins all to herself. She had been more than happy to bunk down with Chewie and Luke. But the young pilot had insisted she have her own space. She didn’t even know why Han was complaining. He had his own bunk already.

In the small cabin, Leia shucked off the dirty fatigues she had worn as part of the mission. They were covered in grime and soot and a little blood. She freshened up as best she could, cleaning off most of the dirt. Laying down on the thin mattress, Leia strained to hear any sound through the walls. Han was complaining. _What a surprise_. 

For all their fighting, sniping and general sarcasm, Leia had wanted to offer her thanks to the Captain. She might have been the first to notice that their contact was not who he claimed to be, but it was Han who had pulled her out of the firing line during their retreat from the space port. He might loathe the idea of heroics, but he was a good man. _Just annoying._

As she tried to find a comfortable spot to sleep, Leia heard the rest of the crew drift off to their bunks. Footsteps lingered outside her door, soft footfalls that were only a few feet away. Maybe it was Han, come to apologise. _Unlikely._ Maybe it was the Captain come to steal her virtue. _Or offer her private tuition._

Leia felt herself grow uncomfortably warm at the memory of finding Han touching himself. She wondered - more often than she cared to admit - whether he had been thinking about her. She thought about him, sometimes. That cocky smile, the glint in his eye. His rough and calloused hands touching her skin and making her gasp.

It wouldn’t be proper. Princesses didn’t engage in such behaviour. But the last Princess of Alderaan was on a Corellian freighter with a Wookie, a Jedi, and a wanted smuggler. Propriety had left the ship a long time ago.

She started with her breasts. Light touches across the threadbare shirt she wore, feeling her nipples harden in the cool air of the _Falcon._ Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip at the spike of pleasure curling in her stomach. Her fingers slid gently under the shirt, stroking along her skin. They wouldn’t have the same feel as Han’s. She’d feel the bite of his skin as he touched her breasts, palmed them, squeezed them. Perhaps she’d even feel the curve of his lips.

Her other hand slid down, moving under the cotton panties she wore to preserve a little modesty on a ship full of scoundrels. She’d fantasised about Han whispering in her ear how she should touch herself, how much and how hard. Now she pictured Han’s mouth moving between her legs. Leia felt herself grow wetter with each stroke, with every image of wild fantasy. She felt the pleasure build inside her, pushing her closer to climax. She thought about Han’s smirk, lips brushing her ear as he whispered terrible, dirty things that Princesses _certainly_ shouldn’t know about. 

A rapid banging on her door halted any potential climax. “Leia, Leia, are you okay?”

_Luke._

Then another voice joined the chorus outside her door. “What’s going on?”

_Han._

Biting back the curse threatening to fall from her lips, Leia pulled herself off the bunk. She found the bottom half of her fatigues and slipped them on before releasing the cabin door. Both Luke and Han looked concerned, the young pilot more than the weathered Captain. 

“Leia, are you okay?”

She nodded, unsure where this sudden concern for her welfare had come from. “I’m _fine._ What’s going on?”

He didn’t seem convinced. “I heard you moaning. I thought you might be in pain.” 

Leia swallowed, stuck for a response. Han, on the other hand, looked like all his birthdays had come at once. His arms crossed; that cocky smirk that both infuriated and turned her on out in full view. _Damn you Luke Skywalker. “_ Thank you, Luke, but I am _fine._ Nothing more than bad dreams.”

“Oh. Okay. If you’re sure.” 

Brushing a hand over the back of his neck, Luke retreated towards his bunk. He was a sweet kid, so desperate to be the hero. It was a shame that his affections would lay unrequited. For better or worse, it was the Captain who held her attention. Although right now she would prefer to hit him on the nose rather than push him against a bulkhead.

“Princess, I like to consider myself an accommodating guy.” _Here we go. “_ But I’m not sure I’m comfortable with such perversity on my ship.”

Leia glared. “Keep your voice down. It’s not what you think.”

He smirked. “ _Really_? Because I think little miss perfect here was caught touching herself.” Han leant in, his body inches from hers. “At least tell me you were thinking about yours truly.”

“And if I was thinking about Luke?”

A flash of jealousy crossed over Han’s features, but it quickly dissipated. “You’re an incredible politician, sweetheart. But you’re not that good of a liar.” He reached down, lifting her right hand to his lips. Leia was both relieved and frustrated when he did no more than kiss it cordially. “Good night, your Highness. Sweet dreams.”

He’d won this round. A quite significant victory; he hadn’t had one of those in a while. But it wouldn’t last. In their battle of wits, Han Solo never remained on top for long. Sometimes Leia just wished he would stop threatening to leave and just _go._ Things would be so much simpler if he did. 

But when had she ever enjoyed simple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	11. Distress [Modern AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senator’s daughter Leia Organa runs into trouble on a night out, until she finds help from an unexpected source. Modern AU.

“ID?”

Leia Organa, Senator’s daughter and future politician, fumbled for the first time in her life. Outspoken in the classroom and on campus activities, she was not one to fall silent. But on this occasion, words failed her. 

“Sweetie, your purse?” Jess, one of the girls on her floor, elbowed her in the ribs. Without a word, Leia slid out the fake ID she had been given inside the cab. The bouncer nodded, barely glancing at the ID. “Thank you!”

Pushing past her, Jess and her friends glared at her as they strode inside the club. If they hadn’t wanted her along, they really shouldn’t have invited her. But, then, they had invited every girl on their floor out for a night on the town. Including the young politician’s daughter. Whilst not usually her scene, after a long week studying for finals Leia had thought a night out would do her well. She had thought they might go to a wine bar, maybe a jazz club. Not somewhere like _this._

Leia gagged on the smell of sweat and spilled liquor as she threaded her way through the crowd. The music was loud, the lights low. A grotesque man sat in the VIP area to one side, watching the crowd with interest. Leia did not like how his eyes lingered on her and her companions as they passed on their way to the bar. The girls immediately ordered drinks, smiling at the bartender as they pushed to the front of the queue. 

“A Martini, very dry,” Leia asked when the bartender swung her way. “Thank you.”

The bartender smiled, winking in her direction as he went to prepare their drinks. The floor of their dorm had been quiet for two weeks, the pressure of midterms bearing down on all of them. Leia appreciated that they all needed to blow off some steam. Whilst a few of the girls danced on the poorly lit floor, Leia stayed by the bar. She was happy to sip her drink and enjoy the sound of something other than the thump inside her own head. 

The night wore on, and Leia ordered another Martini. The crowd had thinned, replaced by a newer and drunker crowd. Jess had talked her into dancing one song, but Leia had begged off a second. She was deciding when it would be polite to slip out and return home when she noticed the flash of a camera in the corner of her eye. 

 _Shit._ Senator Organa’s under-age daughter drinking in a bar. _Shit._

Abandoning the rest of her drink, Leia grabbed her purse and followed the photographer out of the club. He didn’t look like a professional, probably someone who saw an opportunity and took it. She walked faster than him in the heels she had chosen to wear that night, and grabbed his elbow.

“Excuse me!”

The photographer jerked back, glaring at her. “ _What?”_

 _“_ Who were you taking photographs of in there?”

He grinned. “Don’t worry, Princess, you’ll get to see them tomorrow morning on the front page.”

Leia wore her most painful of fake smiles, slipping into her role as Senator’s daughter without even breaking a sweat. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement. Whatever price you would get for selling those photographs, I could surely double.”

“Under-age drinking _and_ bribing a photographer? Story keeps getting better and better.”

“ _Please._ Can we at least talk about this?”

The photographer tried to pull away, but Leia kept an iron clad grip on his jacket. The back door to the club opened; music and shouting from inside spilling out onto the street. Heavy footsteps came towards them. Leia turned to see a young man, a little older than her, wearing a dark jacket and a frown. 

“There a problem here?”

The photographer took the moment’s interruption to tug himself away from Leia. “No problem.”

The other man smiled. “ _Really_? Because it _looks_ like there’s a problem. You okay, sweetheart?”

Leia bristled at the patronising term of endearment. “I can handle this, thank you.”

“Fine.” The other man looked towards the photographer, at the camera in his hands. “Oh, Greedo, who you pissed off this time?” 

“Fuck you, Solo.”

The other man - _Solo -_ chuckled, until he pushed the photographer backwards. Leia took a step away from the scuffle, letting the two men scrap outside the club. Greedo’s camera fell to the ground in the process, and Leia managed to scoop it up before either men could retrieve it. Cheap and scuffed, Leia managed to delete the photographs easily enough. She even took the card from inside just to make sure. She tossed it back to Greedo just as Solo was knocked to his ass. 

“Keep pushing, Solo, _just keep pushing_.”

The photographer stormed off, cursing as he checked his camera for the photographs. He would have to find something else to sell to the tabloids now. With the crisis averted, Leia just wanted to go home. Tucking her purse under her arm, Leia began to walk away.

“A thank you might be nice!” 

Leia turned back to the man who had intervened on her behalf. He was brushing dirt and dust off his clothes. Handsome, although a little rougher than the men Leia usually associated with. “I had that situation perfectly under control.”

“Yeah, it looked like it.” He approached her, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. “So, what’d you do? Greedo only takes pictures of people he can get dirt on. You wanted for murder, sweetheart? Running for President?”

Her shoulders tightened at the mention of political ambitions. Not wanting to discuss this any further, Leia decided to put an end to this line of talk and quickly. “Nothing that you should concern yourself with. _Thank you.”_

 _“You’re welcome_.” He grinned. “I’m Han, by the way, Han Solo. And you are?”

Leia swallowed as Han matched her pace. “Leia.”

“Nice to meet you, Leia. You live around here?” 

Stopping abruptly, Leia twisted towards her supposed knight in tarnished armour. “Listen, Mister Solo, whilst I appreciate your interjection into tonight’s events, I am not looking to show my appreciation by letting you have your way with me. I’m sure there are plenty of women inside that might find your lack of charm appealing, but I am not one of them. So _good night.”_

Leia didn’t stay to watch his reaction, just turned and headed for home. Her heels clacked loudly against the tarmac, the only sound as the club drifted into the background. A lone cab zipped by, dropping off another group of drunken morons. No other cars. No other people. Leia stopped at a crossroads, unable to recall the direction of home. 

“Shit.”

“The college is east.” _Him again. “_ It’s a good hour’s walk from here; through some pretty sucky neighbourhoods. Your friends picked a good place, Jabba’s is probably the seediest club in this damn town.” He came up on her right. “Let me walk with you. At least until we find a taxi rank.”

Leia crossed her arms over the white dress she had worn out that night. “Why would you do that?”

Han shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past Greedo to try again, whatever he was doing. Least if I’m with you, I’ll be able to knock _him_ on his ass. That okay with you, Princess?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sure, _Leia.”_ Han smiled. “Come one, I’ll walk you home.”

The idea of conversing with him for an hour certainly seemed like Leia’s idea of hell. But she needed a guide to show her how to get back to her dorm room. He didn’t seem like a serial killer. But, in the event that he was, Leia had pepper spray, a rape alarm, and self defence training to ward him off. She crossed her arms and started walking in the direction he had pointed. 

“Come on, flyboy. Take me home.”

She missed his smile as he jogged to catch up with her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	12. The Senator [TFA AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a Wookie, two kids, and a map to Luke Skywalker, Han needs help. So he decides to go see an old friend.

_“We’re going to see an old friend.”_

Han went through the docking procedures of the _Falcon,_ setting the ship down easily inside the hangar bay. It had been several years since his girl had been stolen from him, but he still remembered every switch, every light. Every dent and scratch and patched up wire. Han patted the console like an old friend. It felt good to be home. 

“ _Wow_.”

The young woman sitting beside him, his temporary co-pilot, bent forward over the console to stare up at the disappearing skyline. Her eyes widened, desperate to take everything in. “You okay, kid?”

“I just-where _are_ we?”

“Hosnian Prime. We’re here to see Senator Organa.”

The name didn’t register with the kid. She just slid out of the co-pilots seat to join her friend out back. Han felt a sudden pang of sadness. Her name _should_ register. Luke was a myth; he was a legend. Leia was just another name on a ballot paper. But Han didn’t have time to lose himself in such thoughts. He’d made a promise to help those two out, to help find Luke. That’s what he needed to focus on. Anything else would have to wait. 

Chewie threw him a look as he joined them out in the main hold. He ignored it. “Okay, let’s go. We’ve got quite a walk ahead of us.”

They made quite a picture as they left the _Falcon_. One grizzled pilot, one Wookie, a scavenger from the Outer Rim and whoever Finn was pretending to be. More than a few glances were thrown their way. Han wondered if they recognised his face, or the name of his ship. He wondered what the name _Han Solo_ meant any more. Swindler, smuggler. Maybe to the Outer Rim, to people like the girl. Captain, hero. Perhaps to the Resistance, still clinging to old stories. Racer, consort. Husband to the last Princess of Alderaan, winner of three racing championships. 

Another world. Another life. 

“So, who are we going to see?” Finn asked as they made their way out of the hanger bay. 

“Senator Organa. One of the first senators elected to the New Republic. She was one of the leaders of the old rebellion.” Han nudged open the door that would lead them into the open air of Hosnian Prime. He leant in to whisper the next part. “Now, she’s running the new rebellion.”

Conversation faltered as their party took a moment to stare up at Hosnian Prime. Han didn’t know much about the kids, but they had the same look Luke had had whenever they’d gone somewhere new. Like he’d just realised the world was more than just desert. Smirking, Han shook his head and began walking off in the direction of the New Republic Senate. Chewie patted the girl, Rey, on her shoulder, and she quickly ran off to join Han. Finn followed. 

“This place is _huge._  How far does the city go on for?” 

“Most of the planet. Coruscant is even bigger. One giant city.” He didn’t want to talk about Coruscant. Han turned back to yell at Finn. “Pick up the pace, kid; the Senator’s office is still a way to go.”

Chewie let out a groan beside him. Han immediately bristled at the insinuation. “A little while. It’s not a big deal.” It’s not like he had been keeping tabs on Leia or anything. He just knew where her office was. And her apartment. 

They continued to walk, threading their way through the crowds. Finn seemed nervous, jerking away from anyone coming towards him. Rey moved through the crowd like water; taking in every sight and sound with ease. She reminded him of Leia, so comfortable wherever she went. The kid smiled at him when she caught him staring. “How do you know the Senator?”

“She’s an old friend.”

Chewie howled in response. Finn looked expectantly at Rey, the kid unable to understand Shyriiwook. “What’d he say?”

Rey narrowed her eyes at Han. “He said 'That’s an understatement’.”

They turned another street, the kids running to catch up with Han’s suddenly fierce stride. He didn’t say another word, even though he could feel both Rey and Finn watching him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. His thoughts, however, were otherwise occupied. More often than not, his thoughts turned to _her._ Today was no exception. 

A couple more streets, and they were at the right address. A tall, imposing building, Han quickly noted the amount of security standing outside and inside the lobby. There were scanners and body searches; all there to keep the senators and their staff safe from the growing threat of the First Order. Han had made sure to leave his blaster back on the _Falcon._ Years of being married to a politician meant he knew the drill. 

“I’ll do all the talking. Just follow my lead.”

They passed through security easily enough, Chewie having scared the guard into submission with a series of growls when he tried to search the Wookie. They made it onto the elevator without further incident. As the floors rushed past them, Han felt his stomach lurch. The last time he’d seen Leia had been on a holovid. He’d watched her give a speech in front of the assembly. She had been as commanding as she ever had been; as strong and as forthright in her beliefs. Beautiful. Still so beautiful. 

He was still in love with her as much as he ever had been. 

Suddenly they reached her floor. A soft paw to the middle -of his shoulder blades pushed him forward. Han swallowed, his fingers reaching up to adjust his collar. He was tempted to smooth down his hair, but he feared the look he would get from Chewie if he did so. They approached the front desk; the security just as impenetrable here as down below. The young man acting as gatekeeper gave them a polite, if icy, smile. 

“May I help you?”

Han cleared his throat. “We’re here to see Senator Organa.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

He hadn’t called ahead. He didn’t want to run the risk of Leia refusing to see him. This was _important. “_ Not exactly. But me and the Senator go back a long way.”

The receptionist gave him a pained smile. “I’m _sorry,_ sir, but without an appointment I’m afraid I can’t let you in to see her. Perhaps if you had made an appointment-”

“Listen here, this is an _emergency._ Now if you just call-”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the answer is-”

“ _Let him in_.”

Both men turned; their voices dying at the sight of the Senator standing in front of them. The receptionist shrivelled in his chair, whilst Han straightened up immediately. Leia looked every inch the politician; every part the princess. He was a smuggler, a wanted man in clothes he hadn’t washed in two weeks. If he’d told Finn and Rey that, once upon a time, the two of them had been married, surely they wouldn’t have believed it. Love like that was in stories. They certainly hadn’t had their happy ending. 

“It’s good to see you, Han.”

“You too.” _She had no idea_. “Can we talk? Alone?” 

Leia nodded, giving her security a quick look to let them know it was okay for him to pass. She eyed his companions with interest, her dark eyes lingering on Rey. He wondered if Leia felt it too. The pull. The familiarity. Han swallowed his questions for the moment, concentrating on the mission at hand. But then Leia was walking right beside him, her hand brushing his. Then they were in her office, a door closed between them and the world. Alone. For the first time in years. 

Her office was large, lavish. Came with her position within the Senate; her experience. The youngest Senator ever elected, the longest serving too. He watched Leia walk to the windows, looking out on Hosnian Prime. Han was grateful, in that moment, that they had moved capitals. He couldn’t bear to be standing in her office in Coruscant, reminded of their apartment. Reminded of the life they had once shared. 

“What do you need, Han?”

“Help. From the Resistance. Those two kids in there have a map to Luke.”

Leia jerked sharply away from the window. “If you’re joking-”

“Why would I joke about Luke?” Han pushed himself from the doorway to join her by the window. “I found these two kids on the _Falcon_ with a BB unit, a map to Luke, and the entire First Order on their ass. I knew if anyone could help them, it would be you.”

She nodded. “Whatever you need, you can have it. I’ve been searching for Luke for so long...”

“I know. I’m glad we can bring him home.”

Leia smiled. It was faded, and fraught with anxiety over her brother. But it was a smile. Han couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her smile. Or laugh. Or stare at him with such hope and love. It had been on a different world; a different lifetime. Han wanted to reach out, brush his fingers across her cheek. Hold her, like he had that night on Endor. Like he had that night on Coruscant. _That night._ He wanted to tell her...there was so much he wanted to tell her. 

But he said nothing. Did nothing. Chewie would probably call him a coward. Chewie would probably be right. But this wasn’t the time for _them._ The fate of the galaxy, as it often did, hung in the balance. 

“I can get you a clean transport if you want, or clean codes for the _Falcon._ From there, I can take you to the Resistance base.”

“You’re coming with us?”

Leia threw him a look. “Unless you have any objections?”

“None. None at all.”

Another smile, this one a little warmer. Her eyes were soft as she took him in. “Good. I’ll talk to my assistant, make the preparations.”

And that was that. Off on another adventure to save the galaxy. Han had started the day working on a job; swindling a couple of gangs out of their credits and eating old beans out of a bowl because they hadn’t restocked for a couple of months. He would end it back on the _Falcon_ with two kids and a Wookie, on a secret mission for the Resistance accompanied by his estranged wife. The _Falcon,_ the Rebellion, and the Princess. Just like old times. 

Knowing his luck, he’d be back in carbonite by the end of the week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts/stories in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	13. Time of Departure [ESB AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Vader got lost on the way to Bespin? An ESB AU where Han and Leia make it back to the Resistance.

The drop out of hyperspace just...happened. No shuddering of the engine; no flashing lights or alarms or smoke. Looking back on the hellish journey that had been the last few weeks, Han Solo had almost expected there to be one final hurdle they would have to jump over before they got back. But... _nothing._ Han broadcast the radio frequencies that would tell those on the ground that they were friendly. _And just like that._ They were home. 

No more drama. No more fire fights. _No more Leia._

“Well, Captain, I guess this is it.”

Han swallowed as he flicked on the auto-pilot to assist with the landing. “That’s right.”

Ever since they had left Bespin, a cloud had fallen over the _Falcon._ Leia had been under no illusions that he would leave as soon as they landed. Han had been under no illusions either. The kiss they had shared, the smiles and the slight touches, all of those faded away as the Rebel base came into view. 

“I’ll get my things.” Leia’s voice was small, barely above a whisper. Yet it echoed in his head along with her departing footsteps. 

They landed without fanfare. No rush of pilots or High Command officials coming to check in on the Princess. They would have some explaining to do. Han wasn’t sure whether he’d get a medal for bringing her home safe or get locked up in the brig for bringing the Princess aboard his damaged ship in the first place. Maybe it was a good thing they were heading out. He wouldn’t have to deal with High Command any more. 

Threepio was the first one off the ship; metal legs waddling as he tried to find R2 and Luke. Chewie was next, roaring something about head space and elbow room. Han sucked in a big breath of somewhat fresh air as he came off the Falcon. _This was it._

 _“_ At least it’s not Hoth.”

Han snorted, turning with a half smile to see the departing Princess. She wore the clothes Lando had given her on Bespin; her hair braided into a single one running down her back. It was a little messy, a little scruffy. For the last few weeks she looked like she belonged on the _Falcon._ But she didn’t. She belonged _here_. 

“Hell, the Death Star’s better than Hoth.” Han gave her a half hearted wink. “I’d take Darth Vader over an ice monster any day.”

They stood there for a while; waiting awkwardly in front of each other. Leia seemed reluctant to leave. Han wanted to grab her, pull her back onto his ship and never let her go. Instead they both just stood, letting the sounds of the half empty hangar bay wash over them. 

“I should go check in with High Command.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Leia lifted her chin, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “When will you leave?”

“Soon. I need to check her over, make sure she’s okay.” Han offered her a weak smile. “I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

Her own smile was weary. “Thank you, Han. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. Your highness.”

Her title hung in the air. Her name clung to his lips. Han took a clumsy step forward in an attempt to-what? Pull her into his arms? Drag her back onto the _Falcon_? Hold her one last time? The rushing footsteps of their welcoming committee held any further action; Han sliding his boot back over the metal. Leia offered him one final smile and then she was gone.

Time he followed suit. 

\--

It had taken a couple of days, but Han was finally secure in the knowledge that the _Falcon_ was as rock solid as she ever was. The hyper drive was working, nothing was leaking, and they’d even stocked up on enough supplies to last them the trip to Tatooine. If Jabba took umbrage at his payment, they wouldn’t need anything else. But they were ready to leave. _Finally._

Han shifted another box into the cargo hold of the _Falcon. “_ Once we’re done with Jabba, I think a little downtime’s in order. What do you say, pal?”

Chewie growled as he hefted another box into the cargo hold. They’d had this conversation a hundred times, and Chewie had yet to change his mind. “Well, _then,_ once we’re done with Jabba, _you_ can come back. This isn’t my fight, okay? _Don’t look at me like that.”_

As they pulled the last couple of boxes onto the _Falcon,_ Han heard a familiar voice. He rushed to the entryway of his ship, head turning this way and that to find the source. His shoulders sagged when he realised it wasn’t who he’d thought. 

“Not a word.”

A soft growl. 

“Well if she felt that way, she would have said so, okay? I’m through waiting for her. I’m not gonna _beg._ I’m _not_.”

Yet part of him didn’t want to leave with so much left unsaid. Since their return two days ago, Han had only seen Leia once and from a distance. She looked respectable again; hair properly braided and her clothes more fitting of a soldier than a senator. Her time aboard the _Falcon_ was just a dim memory. Soon enough, he would be too. 

“Let’s go.”

Two furry paws rested on Han’s shoulders. Chewie let out a series of roars; a very compelling argument. Every time Han tried to speak, the Wookie cut him off. 

“ _Fine._ You’re right. I should at least say goodbye.” He paused. “But _then_ we’re getting the _hell_ out of here!”

His boots thumped down the gangway and across the hangar floor as he went off in search of the Princess. He tried to tell himself that the sooner he found her, the sooner they could leave. _But he wanted to see her._ No luck in the command stations, or any of the technical bays. After searching the medical centre and the mess, Han decided to try her quarters. 

Han slowed his approach through the female accommodation wing, subtly adjusting his jacket as he grew nearer to Leia’s door. He had to make this quick, lest he and the technician he bribed for the directions get in trouble. Han rapped his knuckles against the door, trying to act as nonchalant as possible for when Leia opened up. 

_No answer._

_Come on..._ Han knocked once again, a little harder this time. “Your Highness, it’s me. _Open up_.”

The door opposite Leia’s opened, a friend of Luke’s on Red Squadron giving him a dirty look as the blast door closed behind her. He gave her a polite smile before practically banging on Leia’s door. 

“Dammit, Leia, could you open the door?” Han smacked his hand against the metal; wincing at the pain exploding through his knuckles. “You know what, _fine._ I’m just going to leave. Don’t say I didn’t try and say goodbye!”

With a growl, Han turned on his heel and stormed back to the _Falcon._ Pilots and technicians dove out of his path as he marched through the base, determined to get back to his ship and off this godforsaken planet as quickly as possible. His arms flailed at his sides, his mouth fixed in a firm line as he entered the hangar bay. _If she wants to ignore me and her own god damn feelings then that’s fine. She can have a nice life._

Muttering curses about Alderaanian Princesses under his breath, Han’s rant came to an abrupt halt as he approached the _Falcon._ There, sitting on the edge of the gangway with her hands resting in her lap, was Leia. _Waiting for him._

 _“_ Hi.”

“Hello.” Leia gathered herself to her feet; her hands disappearing behind her back. “I was wondering where you were. Chewie wasn’t exactly very helpful when I asked him. It appears my Shyriiwook still needs a little work.”

Han nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, Chewie’s fond of you. Maybe he’ll come back, give you lessons.”

“I’d like that. I was actually talking to High Command about your situation.” _Situation. What a nice way to describe the bounty on his head._  “We could organise payment on your behalf. It’s not necessary for you to leave.”

 _Necessary._ First it was _We need you,_ now it was _It’s not necessary. “_ Is that the game we’re playing now, Princess? First you get Rieekan to curb departures and now you’re offering to send other people in my place? Won’t you just admit it already?”

Leia huffed, her small fingers clenching into fists. “These ideas you have-”

“Ideas, huh? Like my _delusions_? Was that kiss we shared just a delusion of mine, Princess?” Han stepped forward, shortening the space between them. “You were practically all over me on Bespin.”

Her jaw locked. “I was-You had to turn this into an argument, didn’t you? I’m trying to help you, you arrogant son of a bitch.”

“I didn’t ask for your help, Princess. I can take care of this myself!” Han jabbed a finger in her direction. “I don’t need your charity.”

“Then what _do_ you want from me?”

Han wanted to scream. He wanted to shake Leia for all the good it would do. They’d had this conversation a hundred times. Han closed the gap between them with another step. “Tell me you love me.” 

“I can’t.”

The anger flooded out of Han with those two words. His shoulders sagged; his gaze fell. All that bravado fell away. _I can’t._ Han realised then that it was finally time to leave. He took one final look at the woman he loved; the only woman he’d ever loved. He’d loved her before all this, but on the _Falcon_ he truly realised what it would be like to love her. He wanted to make her smile. He wanted to ease her nightmares. He wanted her to love him back, and for a little while he thought she might. But  _I can’t._

But not _I don’t._

Han recalled a conversation, late one night on the trip to Bespin, when neither of them could sleep. A conversation of nightmares, of loved ones no longer there. “If I said I would stay, if I said I would never leave, would you tell me then?” 

Leia didn’t answer. But her dark eyes refused to meet his. For now, that was enough. 

“I need to deal with Jabba. I need to do it on my own. But I’ll come back. _I promise_.” His fingers caressed Leia’s cheek before pulling away. _“_ We can continue this conversation then. If you want.”

“I look forward to it.”

Offering a half smile as farewell, Han headed up the ramp into the _Falcon._ He got half way up when Leia’s voice called back to him.

“Han.” He paused; his heart beating wildly in speculation of what would happen next. “You’re not going to leave without giving me a goodbye kiss, are you?”

He grinned. Spinning on his heel, Han turned back to meet the gaze of the young Princess. She was smirking, chin raised, as if waiting for the good Captain Solo to give her that kiss. Han sauntered down the gangway, smile firmly fixed upon his mouth. He stopped just close enough to see her lips part; her eyes darken. A part of him was tempted to leave with a kiss to her cheek, perhaps even nothing at all. But the time for those games were over. 

A whole new game was about to begin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts/stories in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	14. Anniversary [A Rey Solo Story]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a place she will never know or see. But after thirty-five years, Leia brings Rey home.

After another exhausting session of Jedi training, Rey raced through the corridors of the most recent Rebellion base in the direction of the Command Centre. When she arrived, flinging her body through the narrow doorway, she suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Usually she was greeted by the sight of her mother; straight back and commanding presence. Instead, she was met with an audience of amused and confused technicians who quickly returned to their work. 

“Mistress Rey, are you quite well?”

Rey frowned as she turned to the approaching droid. “I’m fine, Threepio. Have you seen the General?” 

“Not since yesterday, I’m afraid. There was a meeting this morning, but she did not attend.”

Threepio’s revelations only deepened her frown. Rey hadn’t known Leia for very long, but she knew she was punctual and dedicated. With the Rebellion still in the middle of a war, Leia would want, nay _need_ to be involved. Luke hadn’t mentioned that anything was wrong during their afternoon training. Maybe Han would know. 

Leaving the Command Centre as quickly as she had arrived, Rey headed in the direction of the hangar bay. After years of looking at it with disdain on Jakku, the _Millennium Falcon_ was now a welcome sight. Rey waved to Chewie as he performed repairs on the top of the ship; her frown fading as the wookie waved back. Her boots thumped up the gangway, alerting her father to her presence. 

Han was in the main living area, fiddling with a crate from their last trip out. He grinned as she approached, pulling her into a one armed hug. “Hey kid. How was training?”

“Tiring. But it’s getting a little easier every day.” Rey was about to ask after her mother when the words caught in her throat. She was fixated on what Han was pulling out of that crate.  “What's that?”

“Something I picked up on our last trip. Quite a find; couldn’t believe it when I saw it. It’s a jewellery box, from Alderaan.”

Rey hadn’t been to too many worlds, but the traders and travellers that had come through Jakku had been from many. However, the name Alderaan escaped her. “Never heard of it. Is it far from here?”

A shadow passed over her father’s face. “ _No._ It was destroyed, long before you were born. I only went there once myself. Beautiful place. Beautiful craftsmanship. Beautiful women.” Rey threw her father a look. “Like your _mother,_ for example _.”_

 _“_ Oh.” Her curiosity and interest in the box suddenly increased ten fold. Rey knew very little about her parents’ history. Suddenly she was presented with a key to her mother’s past, and her own. “I’m sure she’ll love it. I think it’s very sweet, buying a gift for Leia.”

“I did _not.”_ Han’s expression turned surly, and he shoved the jewellery box back inside the crate. He got that exact same look whenever Leia visited the _Falcon,_ or whenever she smiled at him. Chewie teased him mercilessly about it. “I just thought...with the _day_ and all...she might _appreciate_ it. Haven’t you got some Jedi training to do?”

Rey smirked at her father, giving him a look that was apparently exactly like her mothers. She reached into the crate, delicately plucking the jewellery box from the fixings. “It's beautiful. Is it a birthday gift? Should I have got her something? Han, you didn’t tell me-”

A weathered hand rested atop of hers. “Rey, _breathe_. Not her birthday.” Her father paused, taking a moment to think. “I think you should give it to her. I think she’d like that.”

“I don’t understand.”

Han leant over; pressed a kiss to her temple. “You will. She’ll be outside, watching the sunset. I’ll be here later if either of you need me.”

Confused, Rey was ushered off the _Falcon,_  jewellery box in hand. Han had obviously put a great deal of thought into this gift. Rey was _certain_ it would be better coming from him than her. After all, her parents were slowly reconnecting since being thrust back into each others lives. This gift would go a long way to bringing them closer together. 

Leia was, as Han said, looking out at the sky. The afternoon light was falling into dusk, and the pink and oranges of the falling suns created a truly magnificent sight. Rey approached gingerly, not sure if she should disturb her mother in such a peaceful moment. But as soon as the door closed behind her, Leia's gaze was fixed in her direction. 

“Were you looking for me?”

Rey nodded. “You weren’t in the Command Centre.”

“I’m sorry, Rey. I just need a little time to myself today.” She made a move to retreat, but her mother extended her hand towards her. “Not from you, sweetheart. Sit with me?”

Rey walked up the stone steps leading to the viewing platform. The stone bench was hard, unforgiving, but they both leant against it as they watched the sky. All her life, she’d only ever seen one sort of sunset. She had thought she would only ever get to see just one. Since leaving Jakku and being reunited with her parents, she had seen so many. She’d seen so much. 

Swallowing, Rey glanced towards her lap; at the jewellery box that weighed heavily in her hands. “I have something for you. A gift.”

“You do?”

Leia looked surprised at the small, ornate box thrust in her direction. She took it cautiously, cradling it within her hands. Her small fingers traced the words engraved into the sides; the jewels encrusted on the top. Leia let out a wistful sigh. “It’s beautiful. _Exquisite._ Where did you find it?”

“Han did,” Rey quickly explained. “On our last trip out. Every mission, he always takes a look around the markets. I guess he was looking for something for you.”

Her mother’s smile was weary, but her eyes lit up at the mention of her husband’s quite obvious love for her. Leia held the box firmly in her hand as she released the clasp; lifting the lid. A faded melody began to play, a song Rey did not recognise but Leia so obviously did. 

“Thank you for this.” Leia reached over, kissing the top of her head. “Rey, _thank you._ I’ll thank your father later too. This was a beautiful gift. I needed this today.”

“What is today? Han didn’t tell me.”

The light in her mothers eyes dimmed. Taking a deep breath, Leia turned towards the sky. She pointed out into the depths of space, where the stars were barely visible “See that point there, that big empty space?” Rey nodded. “A long time ago, years before you were born, Alderaan used to be _right_ there.”

“Your homeworld.”

Leia nodded. “It was destroyed a long time ago, by the Empire. All of it was lost. The people, the treasures, the traditions. Only thing that survived were a handful of people on other worlds, odd ships. A few treasures are still out there, if you can afford to pay.”

Rey wondered how much the jewellery box had cost her father. She was sure that, whatever price, it had been worth it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago. Thirty five standard years ago. _Today._ Thirty five years today.” Leia reached across for Rey’s hand, holding it within hers. “I also met your father thirty five years ago, but that’s tomorrow. Today is for Alderaan.”

Rey suddenly knew why Han had sent her instead of giving the gift himself. “What was it like?”

A wistful smile. “Alderaan? _Beautiful._ Green hills, snow capped mountains. There was no place like it in all the galaxy. Peaceful. Just so peaceful.” 

“It sounds wonderful.” 

Leia swallowed.  “It was. I’ve never seen another world like it. The festivals every year were so full of colour; so full of life. Music, dancing...there was so much _life_ there. You would have loved it. So much to explore, so much to see. I wish you could have seen it.”

“Me too.” Rey slid closer on the bench, resting her head atop her mother’s shoulder. “Did you ever go exploring?”

“All the time. I was always getting my clothes dirty, never acted like how a proper Princess should. My father was always going to new worlds as a Senator. He would tell me all the places he was visiting, all the sights and sounds. I’d pretend to go on adventures to all these amazing worlds.” Leia squeezed her hand. “He brought me home a jewellery box once. Just like this one. It played the song my mother used to sing to me as a child. I wanted one for you, when you were younger. I tried, for years, but I never could find one.”

Rey smiled, reaching down to touch the ornate box in her mother’s lap. “Han can find anything.”

“Oh he _can_. He’s particularly good at finding treasure, especially lost Alderaanian treasures.” Leia brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “He found you, after all.”

Rey wrapped an arm around her mother, and felt herself be pulled into her embrace. They held each other, the weary sound of the jewellery box playing its dying melody. They sat there for the longest time, listening to that song. Rey whispered questions about Alderaan, about the family she would never meet, and Leia would tell her stories and memories lost to the rest of time. Rey closed her eyes, listening to the sound of her mother’s voice.

When she opened her eyes again, night had fallen. She searched the sky for that empty space between the stars. She would never get to see Alderaan. But it felt like home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts/stories in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com.


	15. The Long Walk Home [Modern AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Distress. Senator’s daughter Leia Organa finds herself warming to her walking companion as Han Solo escorts her home. Modern AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sequel to Distress [chapter 11]. A lovely anon prompted a continuation, so here we go! Happy reading.

As far as expectations went, this was _not_ how Leia Organa thought her night would go. She had expected to indulge in a few drinks, engage in some witty conversation. Dance, perhaps, if the music was suitable enough. Fighting a photographer taking incriminating photographs of her, and then having to walk home accompanied by a man she barely knew, had not even come under her contingency list. 

Frowning at the evening’s turn of events, Leia risked a glance in the direction of her walking companion. They hadn’t spoken for the last ten minutes; instead the tap of their shoes against the side walk had satisfied any need for noise. She watched him glance around, glance up, until his gaze settled on her. He gave her a lazy, appreciative grin as he caught her staring. 

“ _So_. Tell me a little bit about yourself. What you studying?”

Leia swallowed, unsure of how to answer. She had been enjoying the pleasant, if slightly awkward, silence, and didn’t entirely welcome the focus on her. But she didn’t want to appear rude, especially when he was doing her a favour. “Politics and International Relations.”

Han whistled; impressed and perhaps a little intimidated. She found men often were. “That sounds...hard.”

Biting back her retort, Leia simply nodded. “It isn’t the easiest of subjects, I grant you, but I find its one I rather excel at.” 

“Cool.” Han rubbed the back of his neck before shoving his hands inside his front pockets. “Freshman?”

The lie came easily. “Senior.”

Han laughed. It was rich, warm. Completely at odds with the bitterness of the silent night. He noticed her glare, and swallowed down the rest of his laughter. “No offence, sweetheart, but I’ve seen your friends in Jabba’s before. Pretty girls;  _fake ID_ s. No need to lie to me, sweetheart. I know that racket. You’re probably what...nineteen?”

Leia ignored his (correct) guess, and steered the conversation elsewhere. “If Jabba knows that they’re underage, why does he let them in?”

“He likes ‘em young, he likes ‘em pretty. He doesn’t care how old they are, as long as they’ve got money to burn and make the place look nice. Cops don’t give a shit. Helps that Jabba’s lining their pockets.”

Leia felt her stomach roll; disgust bubbling through her. She wondered if her friends knew that they were herded inside to be nothing more than paying ornaments. That the local police force did nothing to stop this was even worse. For a moment, Leia wondered just _how_ young Jabba liked the girls in his club. Another wave of nausea ran through her. 

“You’re shaking.” 

She eyed her companion with unease, suddenly unsure of his place in all this. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re freezing.” Han peeled away his black jacket, thrusting it in her direction. “Here.” 

Leia took it warily, as if afraid it was a trick of some sort. But the cold outweighed her uncertainty, and she pulled it on. It felt heavy on her lean frame; bulky too. But it was warm. She huddled into the collar. “How do you know Jabba?”

“I do a little work for him. Mostly transportation and couriering.”

“Dare I ask what?”

Han shrugged. “It pays the bills, sweetheart. Even _I_ don’t ask what.”

“Maybe you should.”

Their conversation fell into another lull. Leia was glad for the reprieve, if only so she could collect her thoughts. Her usual interactions with men consisted of the politicians within her father’s circle, and the nice young men she circulated with at school. Well dressed, well educated, well mannered. Not scruffy, unkempt men working for unsavoury characters. She didn’t trust him. No matter how handsome his face was 

“Stay close, this isn’t a great neighbourhood.”

Leia pulled back at Han’s attempts to close the distance that had fallen between them. “I don’t need to hold your hand.”

Han huffed. “I’m only looking out for you.”

“I didn’t need your help back then, I barely need it now. You’re just a walking GPS.”

“Cute.”

As her companion huffed and frowned beside her, Leia looked around at their surroundings, hoping to find a familiar landmark so she could put an end to this conversation. There was little light lining the pavement; few of the bulbs in the street lights above them were working. The ground was covered in mulch and mud from the recent storms, and discarded bottles and cigarette packets littered the kerb. 

Suddenly an argument sprung up from the alleyway to her left. The noise startled Leia so much she jerked backwards, smacking straight into Han. The voices grew louder, the sound of a fist connecting with bone echoing in the empty night. Han’s fingers pressed into her hip, gently steering her away from the pavement. As soon as they were past the fight, his hand dropped back to his side. 

“Like I said, bad neighbourhood.”

Leia nodded, suddenly welcoming his presence. She’d taken self defence training, had carried the rape alarm and pepper spray her parents had insisted upon. But being the daughter of a Senator, she had yet to be in a situation that required any of it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Han gave her a short, brief smile. “No sign of Greedo. Must have found another target.”

Curious, she asked, “Why _did_ you intervene back at the club?” 

“Saw a pretty girl in distress, decided to step in and help.”

“With nothing in it for you?”

Han grinned at her tone of disbelief. “Well, _usually_ I get a _little_ something.”

Leia gagged, shaking her head in disgust. She was sure that many young women fell for his charms. Warm, easy smile; gentle eyes; naturally good looks. With a voice sure to arouse and a penchant for insincere heroics, Leia was sure that women fell to their knees around him. 

She glanced at Han, more than ready to reiterate that she would _not_ be providing him with any compensation, when she noticed the grin had fallen. His bravado had faded the moment he was out from under the spotlight. _Interesting._ “Why did you really help me?”

Han frowned, looking in the other direction as he spoke. “Greedo’s scum. He takes photographs for blackmail; he doesn’t treat the girls at the club well. I’ve wanted to knock him out for a while now. You were just a bonus.”  

“Huh.” That was... _unexpected._

“Yeah.” An uncomfortable shrug, brushing off her attention. “We’re taking a right, here. Should give us a little more light.”

Leia followed his directions; heels clacking against the tarmac as they crossed over. A few more bulbs were working overhead, and even a car or two came speeding past. Leia pulled Han’s coat tighter around her, hoping to stave off the drop in temperature. She didn’t know how Han managed it. His shirt seemed just as thin as her dress. 

Han caught her looking again. “See something you like, Princess?”

“ _Hardly._ Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah.” But she heard his teeth chatter. “If I’m right, there’s a diner a block away. Hot coffee, payphone. Sound good?”

“ _Absolutely.”_

They encountered a few more people on their journey; more students out for a night on the town, a few lost souls lurking in the shadows. Despite Han’s jacket, Leia felt the cold seep into her bones. Her toes felt numb in the painful narrowing of her heels, and her legs felt stiff as she tried to walk. 

They were about half way home when it started to rain.

“Shit!” Han swore, reaching up with a futile arm to shield his hair from the pellets of rain. 

Leia hissed as the rain began to soak through Han’s jacket, bringing with it the cold. She couldn’t see any diner, but she could see a store front with a little cover. She grabbed Han’s arm and yanked him forward. “Come on, over here.”

They rushed to the store front, ducking up under the brickwork to shield them from the sudden rain. Han’s hair clung to his scalp, his features softening in the dim light. Water droplets clung to his nose, his lips. His shirt, suitable for a night in a bar rather than a long walk home, clung to his torso. Hands jerked forward, and Leia had the sudden thought of him wanting to hold her. Instead, he tugged the two sides of his coat closed over her dress. 

“Smart thinkin’.”

Leia shrugged. “Well I can’t be both cold _and_ wet.”

Han laughed, his hand reaching up to brush the water out of his hair. Leia could only imagine how terrible she looked. Dark hair stuck to her head, knotted from the wind and rain. Oversized coat, ruined make up, legs pale from the cold. Yet Han couldn’t stop staring. Soft, unyielding. He had gone up in her estimations, but he was still a scoundrel. _Attractive scoundrel._

“We need to get you out of those clothes.”

Her voice was soft, her concentration on Han’s lips rather than his words. “Excuse me?”

“Clothes. They’re wet. You’ll catch a cold.”

“I’m tougher than I look.”

Another laugh. “Then _I’ll_ catch a cold. I’m a horrible patient, you don’t want that.”

They were both freezing cold. Yet Leia felt his hands burn through the material of his jacket. His touch - deft fingers touching damp hair - summoned a spark not dampened by the rain or cold. She wanted more of that warmth. She wanted his touch, welcomed his touch. Leia felt his breath on her skin, feel his dark eyes search hers for any sign that she didn’t want this. He found none. 

The squeal of car tyres ruined the moment, as was the accompanying spray of freshly fallen rain water. Leia cursed as she jumped back, feeling more than fed up with the evening’s turn of events. 

Han looked just as annoyed; whether at the rain, the car or the interrupted kiss she did not know. “Come on, the diner’s not that far. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

“I’d like that.”

As soon as they got to the diner, Leia could call a cab to take her home. Her feet were sore, her body was cold, her clothes were wet. Yet, for a moment, she had actually been enjoying herself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com


	16. The Gift [A Rey Solo Story]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Anniversary, and prompted by several people. Leia thanks Han for the music box.

Thirty five standard years ago, her homeworld of Alderaan was destroyed. 

The image of her home planet, of her family and friends, reduced to nothing more than rubble and dust, was fixed at the forefront of her mind. She could not shift it. The pain, the anguish, _had_ faded with time. But that moment was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Tarkin’s sunken expression; the harsh breath of Darth Vader on the back of her neck. She had felt every single soul on that planet scream out and she’d heard it every night for a thousand nights until her nightmares were replaced by something else. 

_I love you._

_I know._

Her thoughts, as usual, gradually turned to Han. Not the moment on Bespin. Not on the _Falcon_ , not on Hoth. But the _first_ moment. The chronometer informed her that another day had passed, and that the anniversary of Alderaan’s destruction, too, had passed. Today, instead, was thirty five standard years since she had first met her twin brother and the man who would become her husband. _Thirty five._ Was that all?

“What time is it?”

Leia blinked, the image of the chronometer becoming fuzzy. She turned instead to the young woman lying beside her. She was taken back to a time, two lifetimes ago, when a smaller version of her daughter had crawled into bed beside her. Leia stroked Rey’s hair, letting her sink back against the bed sheets. 

“It’s still early. You should go back to sleep.”

Rey stared blearily at the chronometer. “It’s tomorrow. _Today._ You said you met Dad today.”

Leia felt her heart jump. They had not pushed for it.  _Leia_ and _Han_ were fine. _Mum_ and _Dad_ was almost too much to hope for. She smiled down at her daughter, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I did. He and your Uncle Luke came to rescue me. Of course, _I_ had to do most of the rescuing.”

A sleepy Rey smiled against her arms, using them as a pillow. “I remember.”

“You do?”

Eyes closed, Rey gave a lazy nod. “Mmmhmm. The trash compactor.”

Leia chuckled. Her father had _loved_ telling her that story. Rey would squeal when Han would squeeze her tight, mimicking the walls caving in. She wondered, just for a moment, whether Rey still remembered that story the way he had told it back then. She hoped. _She hoped._

Easing herself off the bed so as not to disturb her daughter, Leia walked towards her dresser. Sitting in pride of place was the Alderaanian jewellery box she had been gifted with earlier that night. Her fingertips curled over the sides, caressing the jewels encrusted into the surface. A beautiful, thoughtful gift. 

One she should really thank her husband for. 

\--

Before the fall of the Empire, Leia made few midnight trips to the _Falcon._ Despite it being a place of safety, and despite her attraction to the scoundrel of a Captain who flew her, Leia had tried to avoid it as much as possible. Rebels _talked,_ and she had never wanted to be associated with such gossip. Despite her union to said Captain, Leia _still_ did not want to be associated with such gossip. She was grateful, therefore, that she did not encounter a single soul on her way to Han.

Leia sought out the _Falcon_ in the hangar bay;the lowered gangway almost beckoning her inside. She swallowed, hands almost trembling as she came on-board. A lifetime ago, this flying tetanus shot had been something akin to home. She knew its welds and bolts well, almost as intimately as she knew its Captain. She saw him now, half covered in shadow, as he sipped from a chipped glass. 

“Leia.” His voice choked out her name, as if he’d grown unfamiliar with the sounds during their time apart. “Is Rey okay?”

“She’s fine. Asleep in my cabin.” She’d left a note; had intended to return before her daughter woke up. But as Leia stared at her husband, a familiar sensation began to stir in her stomach. Clearing her throat, she clasped her hands in front of her, trying to reclaim herself. “I wanted to thank you.”

Han shifted restlessly in his seat. “What for?”

“The music box.”

He smiled, his lips pulling up in a warm if sheepish grin. “Well, you’re welcome. It just caught my eye. Come to think of it, it was Chewie who spotted it so you should really-”

“ _Han.”_

They had been married for thirty years; they had two children together. Han had dressed her wounds after battle and undressed her body before sex. Yet somehow, somewhere, they had slipped back into their old relationship. Both struggling to admit their feelings; both tempted by what they wanted. Like before, this was hardly the time for romance. But if not now, when?

Han seemed to sense her train of thought. He pulled out a mismatched glass and placed it by his own. “Got time for a night cap?”

“Just one.”

He smirked as he poured a healthy measure of whiskey into the glass. “I’ve heard that before.”

Rolling her eyes, Leia took the outstretched glass from his hand. She tried hard not to flinch at the slight brush of their fingers. After so long apart, even the slightest touch awakened something deep inside of her. She took a spot beside Han on the couch, their knees bumping under the holo table. Han leant back, trying to occupy himself with the contents of his glass. He was trying to appear cool, nonchalant. He had never been very good at either around her. 

“Rey told me you often search the markets when you’re on a supply run.”

The whiskey bubbled in Han’s throat, the usually suave Captain spluttering at her remark. “Little tattle tale.”

“Do you?”

Han shrugged. “Occasionally. There’s not much out there.  A lot of what’s left went into private collections a long time ago. Sometimes I get lucky. The traders don’t know what they’ve got; sell it cheap. Other times...” Han took a long gulp of his whiskey, reaching for the bottle. “I’m glad you like the music box.”

“Of course.” Leia let her hand rest atop his thigh. “And, thank you for letting Rey give it to me. I’ve spent so many anniversaries trying to hold onto all these memories, it felt good to share them.”

Han laced their fingers together, the slight touch more soothing than Leia could have ever imagined. “The kid’s desperate to know about her history, _our_ history. You should have seen how excited she was to get another piece of the puzzle. She wants to know _everything.”_

“She should. She will.” Leia took a sip of her glass with her free hand, biting back at the bitter taste. Han usually stocked a better bar. Leia wondered how much that jewellery box had impacted his finances. “Have you told her how we met?”

“Not yet. But I will.” Han jerked his shoulder back, fingers grasping wildly for the chronometer behind him. “Hey, look at that. It’s tomorrow. Happy anniversary, your Highness.”

“Happy anniversary, flyboy.”

They laughed, the sound of clinking glasses echoing in the empty _Falcon._ Both took a sip of bitter whiskey. Still holding his hand, Leia rested her head against his shoulder. Cool lips brushed her temple. When Leia looked up, Han wore the same lazy grin she’d seen a thousand times. He was content, _happy._ She felt that way, too. Back with him. 

“Where do you think we’d be, if I hadn’t taken that job from old Ben?” Han asked, his calloused thumb drawing patterns along her skin. 

Leia drained her glass, feeling the whiskey burn down her throat. “Dead.”

She knew he’d meant it in an attempt at frivolous whimsy, but it was the truth. Han’s fingers tightened around hers. “You and me both. You can only outrun Jabba the Hutt for so long. Someone would have caught up with me eventually.”

“Someone did.” 

Another kiss, this time his lips lingered. “True. Thank the Gods for you.”

Leia couldn’t imagine a life without Han. He had been with her through war, through peace. He had come back for her on Hoth, saved her from capture by the Empire. She had come for him on Tatooine, releasing him from the carbonite. They had been rescuing each other since they first met. 

What was one more rescue?

Abandoning her glass on the holochess table, Leia leant forward. She stroked the side of Han’s face; fingertips brushing day old stubble. His hair was greyer, his eyes wearier. But he was the same scoundrel she had fallen in love with. She caressed his face, marvelling at the change in his breathing. Soft hands, now rough from time and war, traced the curve of his smile. 

Han caught her hand, his fingers holding her wrist in place. He lifted her hand to his mouth, lips leaving delicate kisses against each of her fingertips, knuckles. Warm eyes held her gaze as he pressed a firmer kiss to the inside of her wrist. 

“You’re trembling,” Han whispered in the dark. Both hands held her close, close to him. “What are you so afraid of?”

A half smile at stolen kisses graced her mouth. “Afraid? I’m not afraid.”

“ _I am.”_ She met his eyes. “I’m afraid I’ve drunk too much, passed out, Chewie’s gonna wake me up any second. I’m afraid you’ll never love me as much as you used to.”

“Impossible.” Leia’s free hand slid against his neck, leaning in for a kiss. “I’ll love you forever, for as much as I can give.”

They had shared one kiss since their return into each other’s lives. One kiss, on the morning they had discovered the truth about Rey. Slight, innocent. Now Leia slanted her mouth across Han’s, kissing him with every ounce of passion she could. She’d missed him, needed him, loved him. _Wanted him._ The desire she’d felt at the prospect of this kiss burnt brighter than before at the reality of Han’s lips against hers, his fingers on her skin. 

“ _Leia.”_ The bite to Han’s voice made her moan, and her fingers tugged at the front of his shirt. She pulled away to breathe, only to be beckoned back. Fingers combed through her hair, removing the pins and ties holding it all together. Her hands pushed at his open collar, pressing against bare skin. She’d forgotten what it felt like to touch him, for him to touch her. 

All too soon, Han was pulling away. His bottom lip was plump, swollen from her teeth nipping at his mouth. His hair, not particularly well kept to begin with, was now in disarray after her fingers had toyed and tugged. His chest heaved, his eyes betrayed his lust. Yet he was pulling away. 

“I need to know...is this _us_ , now? Are we going to try and make this work?”

Leia nodded. “We’re gonna try like hell.”

“Good.” Han grinned, pressing a lazy kiss to her lips. “ _Good._ So...bunk? Chewie gets upset when we have sex in here.”

Leia hummed against Han’s mouth. “It didn’t stop us last time.” He laughed. Last time was a lifetime ago. “I should probably get back to Rey. I want to be there when she wakes up.”

“Good plan.” Another kiss. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yes you will.” Leia held Han’s face in her hands, leaning in for a deep kiss. When she pulled away, her husband was smiling. “I love you.”

“I know.”

She felt Han’s eyes watch her as she left him alone inside the _Falcon,_ heading back out into the rebel base. Thankfully the corridors were as empty as they had been during her initial journey. Slipping inside her cabin, Leia found their daughter fast asleep. She binned the note, before turning her attention to the music box. She did not open it for fear of waking Rey. But inside were the few Alderaanian treasures she had been gifted with over the years. An antique broach. A hair pin. A set of earrings. All gifts from Han. 

She would wear the earrings tomorrow. It seemed fitting to wear such a gift for such an occasion. Out of her greatest sorrow, came her greatest joy. 

Leia took one last look at the jewellery box before she joined her daughter in sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts/stories in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com!


	17. Ghost Stories [Modern Horror/Ghost AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no place to stay, Rey takes shelter in an old abandoned house. However, the house is not quite as abandoned as she first thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, this story does contain some disturbing material in regards to murder and child abduction. Whilst nothing is explicit, this is still quite a dark story.

_“Last stop, everyone off. If you leave anything behind, you’re not gettin’ it back.”_   


The driver’s announcement finished with a crackle; static that Rey wasn’t sure came from the age of the bus or the storm raging outside. When she had stepped on-board twelve hours earlier, the skies had been clear and the earth bone dry. Now rain pelted the bus; heavy drops that splattered the windows so incredibly that she could not even see the New England countryside. The wind’s eerie howl echoed through the bus; the sounds of headphones, candy wrappers and dry throats unable to drown it out. 

If Rey was the superstitious type, she would consider this an omen. 

“Come on, everybody off.”

Rey gathered her bag, sliding the small duffel over one shoulder. She followed a mother with two young children through the aisle as they navigated their way off the bus. The mother immediately shepherded the boys to shelter, brushing raindrops out of their hair with loving hands. Rey hesitated, watching them intently, until a shove from behind pushed her into the rain. 

The hooded sweatshirt she wore was not enough to keep out the rain and wind, and Rey cursed as she tried to brace herself against the New England weather. Her fellow travellers huddled in front of the bus’ luggage compartment, all awaiting their bags. All Rey had was what she carried. She’d sold her few possessions for a ticket _anywhere,_ as far away as she could get. Now she was here. Where _was_ here?

Tugging her hood tighter over her head, Rey followed the mother and her children into the bus terminal. It was cold, clinical, with harsh artificial lights that flickered overhead. A bucket was placed in the middle of the room, catching drops from the hastily patched roof. There was one member of staff: a pale faced woman in the ticket office, staring blankly at her magazine. 

Clutching her bag, Rey approached her. “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me? Are there any hotels nearby? Motels?”

The woman glanced up, sharp nails closing the magazine as she saw her. “How old are you, sweetheart?”

Rey stiffened. “ _Old enough_. Is there any place I can stay?”

“Not that I’d be comfortable sending you. There’s a bus in half an hour, it’ll take you back to the city. I recommend you get on it.”

“Thank you.”

Rey reluctantly stepped aside to allow the next person in line. She had enough money for a few nights in a hotel, a couple of weeks in a really _bad_ motel. Enough money to keep her afloat until she could find a job. She had wanted to get out, get away. She kicked that bucket in frustration, annoyed that her _grand plan_ wasn’t working out as she’d hoped. 

Rey hovered in the terminal, unsure of what to do next. She fiddled with a display rack that held dimly coloured leaflets about local tourist attractions. She looked at a few, noting with distaste the faded colours and thick layer of dust. There was a waxwork museum, featuring celebrities and politicians that had died long before Rey was even born. An old World War II museum showcased fighter planes. Fancy gardens, old fashioned sweetshops. This town was quite the tourist trap. But it looked like no one had been through here in quite some time. 

The door to the bus terminal opened again, an old woman bringing with her the wind and the rain. She bypassed the bucket with ease, signalling to a car waiting out front. Most of the others who had come off the bus were waiting for their next connection. But not her. She seemed like a local. 

“Excuse me,” Rey said, getting in front of the woman. “I was wondering if you knew of any place I could stay tonight.”

She pursed her lips, knotted fingers tightening around her bag. “The hotel closed down _years_ ago. There’s a motel out on Route 9, but that’s a _long_ way to walk in this rain, my dear. Get the next bus. _Leave_.”

Rey shook her head. “ _Please,_ is there anywhere I can stay? Just for one night, just until the rain clears?”

The old woman hesitated; her pause accompanied by the shrill sound of a horn from outside. She leaned in close, so close Rey could feel her warm breath on her skin. “There is a house. Old, abandoned. No one goes near it, not since all the... _trouble._ But it’ll be dry. _Just for one night.”_

 _“_ Where do I find it?”

“Take a left out of the terminal, keep walking up the hill. You can’t miss the old Organa place. _Beautiful_ house. Or at least it used to be.”

“What happened?”

The old woman waved her away. “We don’t talk about it. Just be gone in the morning, child. This isn’t the place for someone like you.”

Her small bag knocked into Rey’s side as she pushed past her, heading back out into the rain to her waiting ride. Other than sleeping in the terminal, the only other option was this house. Rey fished out a map from the leaflet stand, looking for the name _Organa._ It was a huge house, with a large garden and a maze, according to the map. _Just for one night._

Leaving the terminal, Rey headed left. The rain came down in sheets, and it only took a matter of seconds for her clothes to completely soak through. The map became sodden, mushy in her hands. Rey did her best to navigate. But her route was not well travelled. No headlights from passing cars, no street lights to light her way. But eventually she made it. 

“ _Wow.”_

The map hadn’t done the Organa place justice. It was large, imposing, with the front of the house bigger than any place Rey had ever seen. The map, now reduced to nothing but sludge, had mentioned that it was originally built in the 1920s. Fifty rooms, with a grand ballroom and a well stocked library. Rey could imagine the old fashioned cars pulling into the large driveway, dropping off their owners for an elaborate party. 

But there were no cars in the driveway, now. No lights in the window. They were all boarded up, covered with newspaper. The front door was locked, as expected. However, there were a few loose boards around the side of the house. Rey eased a couple up, allowing her to slither inside. 

Inside she was out of the rain, but not out of the cold. Rey balled her hands under her armpits, struggling for warmth. She needed to find a fireplace, somewhere she could get warm and dry off her clothes. This first room seemed to be a drawing room, with an old billiards table lying dormant. Rey pushed one of the balls, hearing it clack against its brothers. 

As she explored deeper into the house, she realised that no one had been there for  _years._ Drop clothes covered most of the surfaces; a thick layer of dust was collecting atop book shelves, lamps, even a chandelier. It would be too easy to get lost in such a place. She was grateful, therefore, to find a large fireplace in the second room she searched. A stack of newspapers and some old firewood made an excellent fire. She laid out her wet clothes, hoping to have them dry by morning. There was no blanket, so Rey sat as close to the fire as she dared. 

Rey was just staring to doze off when she heard a noise. _A creak_. Like the sound of someone else in the house with her. “Hello?”

There was no reply. Thinking it was the wind outside, Rey settled herself back against the legs of an old armchair. But then she heard it again. Still shivering from the cold, Rey got to her feet. She peered into the darkness. “Hello?”

Bare feet padded out on dusty floors, looking out into the foyer and the grand staircase that was bigger than the size of her last house. The antique grandfather clock had stopped. “Hello?” _No one._

Rey turned to step back inside, only to nearly walk into the dark figure of a man. Gasping, Rey leapt backwards. There was no light in the foyer, except for the faint moonlight streaming in through the large stained glass above them. She could see the silver in his hair, a scar running along his chin. But she couldn’t see his eyes. 

His voice was harsh, biting, as if he hadn’t spoken in years. “Who are you? _Who sent you_?” 

Rey scrunched up her face in confusion. “I’m sorry, who sent me? You mean the old woman?”

“Old wo-” The figure huffed, a finger jabbing out in the darkness. “It was Ducain, wasn’t it? He sent you here to try and take the house, _didn’t he?_ ”

“What?” Rey wrapped her arms around her waist, struggling for warmth in the bitter temperatures of the foyer. And she was scared. She would admit to that. “No one _sent_ me, I was just looking for somewhere to-”

The figure was still cursing, hand waving wildly in her direction. “ _I don’t care._ You tell Ducain Han Solo isn’t moving for _anyone_.”

“Han Solo? _”_

Rey repeated his name, unsure if she’d heard correctly. The figure - _Han Solo_ \- retreated back into the room. Rey followed, getting her first look at him in the light. She’d seen pictures of him from years ago; watched old videos of him racing. For Plutt and his customers at the junkyard, Han Solo was a _legend._

 _“_ You’re Han Solo,” she said once more, watching his shoulder’s stiffen. _“_ You raced the Kessel Run in one minute, fourteen seconds!”

“Twelve. It was one minute, _twelve.”_ Han huffed. “That was a long time ago, kid. A _long_ time ago.”

He looked older, in the light. The flames highlighted every silver strand and every weathered line. There was something in his eyes, too. A tiredness that came with time; that came with pain. She had no idea who was trying to make him leave his house. But she knew she still needed somewhere to bed down for the night. 

Swallowing, Rey took a step forward. “I’m not with Ducain. I’m just passing through town. There’s no hotel or motel and it was raining-” She glanced towards the boarded up windows, where the rain and wind still howled outside. “I just need a place to sleep tonight.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in, but in the end Han nodded. “Okay. You can stay the night. But _tomorrow_ you get on a bus and you get the hell out of this town, we clear?”

Han began to leave. Rey called back, tired of being chased out of this town. “You’re the third person today to try and make me leave.” 

“Well maybe you should have listened to the other two. This isn’t a nice town, kid. You should catch a bus to New York or Chicago...somewhere _far_ from here. Got it?” 

Rey nodded. “Got it.”

Frustrated and now a little concerned, Rey took to watching the fire. When she looked back at Han, he was gone. Rey searched, trying to find a door or a hall where he could have gone through. She found nothing. Just like his first appearance, his disappearance occurred without a sound or a whisper. Feeling a chill run through her, Rey sat close to the fire. Her hair was slowly drying out; her hands more cold than wet. But her clothes felt clammy and damp against her skin. She needed a shower, a fresh set of clothes. _A bed._

Suddenly, Rey heard a crack somewhere deep inside the house; like the snap of a twig or a branch against a window. _Just the storm._ When she heard it again, Rey’s head snapped in the direction of the dark foyer. A blanket landed in her lap, and Rey jumped. 

“It’s a blanket, kid, not a monster.”

Han had reappeared, this time with a blanket. Rey didn’t question it, just draped it around her shoulders. She welcomed the extra warmth. “Thank you.”

“You already got wet footprints everywhere. Can’t let you drip on the furniture.”

Rey went to argue, but Han was smirking. He knew the state of the house. Dust and drop clothes; boarded windows and broken tiles. The Organa Estate had seen much better days. Not for the first time, Rey wondered what this place was like in its hey day. 

“It’s a beautiful house,” Rey said. Han offered nothing. “Why’s it all boarded up?” Still nothing. “What happened to this place? The town, I mean?”

“It died.” Han frowned, warming his hands by the fire. “Whole town up and died. A couple of decades ago, this was a real nice place. Friendly community, lots of tourists.” His voice faded. “You like ghost stories, kid?”

“Depends on the story.”

“This one ain’t for the faint of heart.”

Rey shrugged. Her books were soaked through and there was no television in the room. She might as well hear a good story. “I’m not a child.”

“ _Okay then_.” Han cleared his throat. “Way back when, a lot of families used to come up here for the summer. Rich families, with their spoiled brats. The family that owned this house, they were one of the wealthiest in the state. You know the name Leia Organa?”

Rey thought for a moment. “She’s a Senator.” She’d seen her on the news, heard a few of her speeches on the radio. “Did she live here?”

Han smiled wistfully, as if lost in an old memory. “Yeah she did. She grew up here; came down every summer with her husband, their two kids. Beautiful, smart...hell of a right hook, too, if you pissed her off. I think there’s a picture of her, just behind you.”

Rey lifted up the photograph from the table. She used the corner of the blanket to wipe away the grime caked on the frame. Rey recognised Senator Organa in the picture. She was younger, but still beautiful, commanding. She could understand why thoughts of her still haunted Han. Accompanying her were two children: a young girl, about five or six; and a boy, about ten years older. There was something _dark_ about the way he stared at the camera. As if he were afraid it would capture his very soul.

“Are these her children?” Rey couldn't remember seeing any such children standing with the Senator on election day. “What happened to them?”

A shadow fell over Han’s face. “About fourteen years ago, a little girl went missing. Local girl, no one really paid much attention. Then a little boy went missing, one of the tourists. Ten year old kid, walking home from the beach. His parents never saw him again.”

Something floated to the front of Rey’s mind. She picked herself up from the floor, carrying herself over to the fireplace. Atop the stack of papers was a front page with seven, smiling children at her. A girl, a boy. Then five other little girls and boys. The last little girl was the one from the photograph. 

“They all disappeared?”

Han nodded solemnly. “Not a trace. Breha...” He gestured to the picture frame. “She went out into the woods. Never came home.”

Rey touched the faded newsprint. “Did they ever find out what happened? Did someone take them, or-”

"No.” Han turned sharply, the reflection of the flames flickering in his dark eyes. “The police thought they had a guy. Old man Snoke, lived not that far from here. I caught him on the property a couple of times talking to Ben, that’s Breha’s brother. But they found nothing.”

“That was when the town started to die.”

Han stared at her. “Would _you_ bring your kids back here?”

Rey shook her head. She stared at the paper, at the smiling faces of seven children from school photographs and holiday snaps. She looked back at the photograph of the Senator, her two children. _They looked so happy._ But the boy’s eyes haunted her. They wouldn’t let her look away. 

“What happened to Ben? Did he disappear too?”

Han shook his head. “No. Something _much_ worse happened to him.”

“ _What?”_ Han seemed reluctant to continue, but Rey wanted to hear the rest of the story. He couldn’t stop now. “What happened?”

“Nothing anyone could prove.” Han sagged. “They found his father in the kitchen. Bloody knife right beside him. They couldn’t pin it on the kid, but the locals knew who’d done it. All that time talking to Snoke...the kid and Leia left town soon after.”

Ever since she had climbed inside this place, Rey had felt a coldness to the house. Something _evil_ had been here. Shivering under the blanket, Rey huddled in one of the armchairs closest to the fire. Her eyes sought out Han. She understood the pain in his eyes, now. The shadows. 

“Get on a bus tomorrow, kid. You don’t want to stay in this town.”

She nodded, swallowing. “I will.”

“Good.” Han stood back from the fireplace. “I didn’t get your name.” 

“Rey.”

He smiled. “Rey. Well, take care of yourself, Rey. Get some sleep.”

She closed her eyes, just for a _second,_ and then he was gone. Frowning once more, Rey huddled deeper into the armchair. She would be glad of some sleep, even gladder to leave this town behind. Her eyes focussed on the little girl, of her dark brown eyes similar to her own. What had become of her? What had become of all of them?

_“Rey...Rey, wake up.”_

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but clearly she had. It was now morning. Daylight shone through the thin cracks in the newspaper and wooden boards covering the windows. The storm that had raged last night had eased, leaving only the sound of an empty house. Getting to her feet, Rey saw a spare change of clothes laying on a nearby armchair. _But no Han._

The fire had died in the night, and Rey hissed at the cold morning air. She decided to make a new one whilst she made plans for her departure. Grabbing another paper from the stack, she intended to scrunch it up and throw it in the hearth. But a picture on the front made her pause. It was Han. 

 _Han Solo, well known racing driver and husband to Senator’s daughter Leia Organa, was found murdered in their vacation home in_ -

Rey read the story once, twice, three times. She stared at the grainy image on the front page until all she could see was newsprint. She cleaned the dusty photographs that had laid dormant in the room. Han and Leia. Han and his children. Han and his daughter, playing out in the forest. _Han._

Suddenly, Rey noticed that noise again. She turned, expecting him. Han wore the same clothes as the night before. He cast no shadow in the early morning light. He watched her, saw her fingers tighten around the frame of his wedding photograph. 

“You okay, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The sound of broken glass echoed throughout the house.


	18. We Were Happy Here [A Rey Solo Story]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is over. Han, Leia and Rey return home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to hanorganaas for reading this through for me. Hope you all enjoy it!

Calloused fingertips brushed the locking mechanism. The door slid open slowly; time and dust corroding the electronics. He placed one foot inside, almost testing the ground. A tickle in his throat became a racking cough; fifteen years of dust invading his lungs. There were no lights on in the apartment. Just the thin, early morning light rising through the glass panels. Han had never known Coruscant to be this quiet. Barely any traffic outside. No sound reached the twenty eighth floor. 

It felt almost like walking into a tomb. 

Sliding the duffel bag from his shoulder, Han let it fall to the floor. It produced a small cloud of dust, covering his boots. There wasn’t much in the bag: a couple of days worth of clothes, some credit chits. He travelled light, always had. The first time he’d stepped foot in this apartment, he’d also carried very little. A blaster, another shirt, and his new wife. 

He glanced around the old apartment. The walls were bare: the artwork was in storage; the family photographs either destroyed or shoved into bags, cellotaped to bunks. All the furniture was covered in clear sheets; vacuum packed to prevent any decay. Han tore the seal off the couch, yanking the sheet from its holdings. His nose wrinkled at the smell. Still looked the same. An old memory popped into his head. Wondering something, Han pulled back one of the cushions. A large oil stain, the product of a jammed switch, was still there. He wondered whether Leia had asked the movers not to clean it when she’d boxed up their apartment. 

A soft thump from the doorway echoed in the empty space. Han turned; the ever present smile at the sight of his daughter forming on his face. Her dark eyes darted around the spacious apartment. Cramped bunks on the _Falcon_ and increasingly smaller rooms in Rebellion bases made this the largest home Rey had ever had. He wanted to hold his daughter; show her where she’d bumped her head and got oil on her mother’s dress. He wanted to show her the childhood that had been stolen from her, from all of them. But Han just stood, watching. Even after two years, Han didn’t want to push.

“Did it smell like this when we lived here?”

Han chuckled. “Only when Uncle Chewie came to visit.”

Rey grinned. She picked up her bag, smaller than even his, and went off to explore her first home. She glanced at the bare walls; calloused hands explored the smooth marble worktops of the kitchen. Her gaze became fixed on the large panes of glass, showing Coruscant off in all its splendour. 

“Wow.” Her eyes bulged. “How far up are we?”

“Twenty eight floors. Best view on the planet.” Another thump by the doorway signalled the third of their party. Han turned to smile at his wife. “Well, _second_ best view.”

Leia stood, rooted in the doorway; her boots not stepping over the threshold. Her hands brushed the frame; her eyes staring but not really _seeing_ the apartment. The last time she had been inside, she had packed away all their belongings. Their daughter’s toys; the few clothes he had left behind. Ben’s things. Han crossed over the apartment, standing on the other side of the door. He held out his hand for Leia to take. 

“Welcome home.” 

She stared at his hand. When they’d first moved in, he had grabbed her and carried her over the threshold. They had fallen atop that sofa, Leia’s elbow digging into his side. But it hadn’t mattered. The war was over, they were _married._ They had been happy, then. 

“Leia?”

She swallowed, blinking away the haze that had drifted over her. She stepped into their old apartment, taking the hand that he offered. Her fingers tightened around his as she followed the same path they all had: glancing at the bare walls, staring at the sterile furniture. It felt more like a mausoleum than a home. Maybe they should have gone somewhere else. There had been plenty of choices for apartments now that the New Republic had moved back to Coruscant. But something about this place...they _had_ to come back here. 

“You okay?” Han asked, laying a gentle hand atop his wife’s shoulder. 

She nodded, although it didn’t fool either of them for a second. “I’m fine.” She patted the couch, a soft smile forming at the sight of that oil stain. It was the only thing that made the apartment feel lived in. “Let’s settle in, shall we?”

Leia joined Rey by the windows overlooking the city. Han brought their luggage inside, dropping it by the couch. Leia’s bag was surprisingly light. A few clothes, a few mementos. She’d lost many of her personal effects during an unscheduled evacuation. The jewellery box, a gift from Han and one of the last treasures of Alderaan, was buried under six feet of rubble. It was not an understatement to say that this war had left them with nothing but each other. 

Han joined his wife and daughter by the window, returning his hand to Leia’s shoulder. She held it, squeezed it, kept him close. They both smiled at Rey. “So, kid, what do you think?”

“It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.” Her eyes glanced back towards the apartment. “Are you sure there’s enough room? I only see one bed.”

Han and Leia both looked at each other. “Sweetheart, there’s three bedrooms upstairs. There’s more than enough room for us all.” 

Rey swallowed, a light shining in her eyes. “So I can really stay?”

Han grinned. “Kid, there’s no way in _hell_ you’re staying anywhere else.”

Rey beamed. She pushed forward, burying herself in her mother’s arms. Han stroked her hair, looking down at her with a smile. This wasn’t the first time Rey had been worried they would leave her, or toss her aside. After the First Order had been defeated and the Alliance had focussed its efforts to rebuild, Rey had spent two days fixing the _Falcon_ so he’d keep her on board. It would take some time for the memories of Jakku to fade. Until then, they would offer Rey their love, and their home. 

This home. 

“Would you like to see your room?” 

Rey pulled away from her mother, nodding vigorously at her suggestion. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”

Han followed Leia and Rey across the apartment, heading towards the single staircase that led to the upper level. He heard them whisper about the apartment; Leia telling stories of when they’d first moved in. Its current state was miles away from it’s original condition. Everything then had been _nice_ and _clean;_ with lavish upholstery and fixings. An apartment suited for a former Princess and one of the founders of the New Republic. Back then, Leia had been aghast at the size; saying it was too big for just the two of them. A couple of weeks after they were married, she’d had to eat her words. 

“Here we are. Your room is the first door on the left.”

Leia pushed open the door to Rey’s old bedroom, stepping back to let her daughter soak it all in. Han remembered it covered in toys: model ships and dolls and a toy lightsaber that had been a gift from Uncle Luke. The walls had been painted a grim pink back then, and the colour had not improved with time. 

“Is there-is there _hair_ in the paint?” Rey touched the wall, glancing back at both her parents. 

“Chewie helped. He was excited to get a niece.”

Rey simply beamed. Showing her her old room reminded the kid of just how much she was loved. Sadly there was not much of her old room left. An old bed frame; a blank space of wall where Rey had _begged_ her father to put up schematics of the _Falcon_. It needed a fresh coat of paint, some books and a hell of a lot more clothes. _A desk._ She would need a desk where she could tinker with things. Right by the window. 

“We’ll get some fresh paint tomorrow. Maybe yellow?” Han suggested, frowning at the peeling paint.

“Blue,” Rey smiled, staring at the walls. “They should be blue.”

Leia nodded, watching her daughter take in her bedroom with a smile. “Blue it is.”

Rey investigated every inch of her room: from the empty closet that held no clothes to the splotches of oil and charcoal left underneath the window. She balanced herself on the vacuum sealed mattress, her fingers brushing the ceiling. “ _Stars.”_

 _“_ You loved them, as a child,” Leia explained. “I used to catch you sneaking out in the middle of the night to stare at them. I thought these would help keep you in bed.” 

“ _Stars.”_ Rey smiled to herself, a private moment just for her. But then that smile faded. “I thought I’d remember more.” 

Han cleared his throat, stepping forward so he could try and reassure his daughter. “You know, most people don’t remember anything from when they’re really young. I don’t. Your mother doesn’t. It’s okay not to remember.” 

Rey nodded, but her smile had lost it’s sparkle. “I wish I remembered less of Jakku.” 

Han wished she did too. The one saving grace of her memory loss was that she did not remember the massacre. He and Leia both agreed that _that_ was worth losing everything else. Worth forgetting how he’d taught her how to tie her shoes in this room; worth losing the memory of Leia dressing Rey in her first formal gown. At least they still had these memories. They were faded with time, but they were still there. 

Rey sat on the edge of her bed; arms wrapped tightly around her bag. She stared up at the ceiling, at the stars, until her mother’s hand curved around her arm. “We’ll give you some time to get settled. We’ll be next door if you need us.” 

They left together, Han’s fingers brushing Leia’s as they walked out into the hall. A large painting of an Alderaanian landscape had graced the wall back then. It had been a gift from Luke; one of Leia’s most prized possessions. Hopefully it was still in storage. It would look good out here. Right next to their bedroom door. Right across from Ben’s. 

“Is there-” 

Han couldn’t bear to finish his sentence. But as his eyes cast towards that door, closed and hidden in shadow, Leia knew exactly what he meant. “No, nothing. There wasn’t much before he left.”

There was nothing to remember the boy their son had been. The scar on Han’s side was a memento of the darkness that had corroded him. The mark on Rey’s cheek was the last remaining shred of the man he could have been. Only a few months had passed since they had lost their son for a second time. He had been remembered in the old Jedi tradition; a pyre burning on Yavin as his parents, uncle and sister looked on. 

Blinking away old ghosts, Han realised he was suddenly alone. “Leia?”

“In here.”

She was in the bedroom that he and Leia had once shared. The master suite, with it’s own fresher and a bed twice as large as their one on the _Falcon._ Back then, Han had loved the space. Made him feel like something had changed. Made him feel at _home_. Now the room was too big; his wife sitting on the corner of the bed looking impossibly small. He cleared his throat as he entered. Leia gave no sign of recognition as he approached; nor did she move when he cradled her hands. 

“Do you think, if I close my eyes, I’ll open them and everything will be back to normal?” She rested her head against his shoulder. “That the last sixteen years would be nothing more than a dream?”

Han pressed his lips to her temple. Nothing he could say would help. So he just held her close. 

“I thought it would help, coming back here. I thought it would ease some of the pain. All it did was open up old wounds.”

“I know.” 

He’d hoped for the same. He’d hoped to enjoy old memories of their time together as a family. Ben holding his baby sister for the first time. Rey sitting on her mother’s lap as she read the paper. Han, Chewie and Rey chasing around the apartment, each carrying a toy blaster. The only thing that lived in this apartment were ghosts. _Like this bed._ Haunted by the nights where he had been distance, inconsolable, unable to be reached by anyone. Not even the person he loved most. 

“Is everything alright?” 

Leia swallowed, slipping on a mask that Han knew all too well. She smiled at their daughter standing in the doorway, patting Han’s hands away. “Everything’s fine. How’s the room?”

Rey beamed, the smile from earlier now splitting her face. “It’s _wonderful._ I can’t believe it’s all mine.”

“Tomorrow we’ll sort out some new furniture; a fresh coat of paint. It’ll feel more like home then.”

Rey nodded, not really hearing. “Finn was just on the comm. Can he come over to see my room?”

Her room was a paint peeling dust trap. But for Rey, it meant something. A piece of her past, a part of her future. There were no ghosts here for Rey. Just the potential for new memories. Her enthusiasm lifted something in Leia. “Of course you can, sweetheart. Finn is welcome here any time.”

“Thank you!” Rey raced over, swallowing them both up in a hug. She pulled away, her energy boundless. “I can’t believe it. Someone’s coming over to see my _bedroom_!”

Both of them smiled at Rey, her enthusiasm infectious. Finn’s visit would help Rey and Leia both. Of course, the more Han thought about it, the more uncomfortable he became. “Just keep the door open, okay? I’m not completely on board with you having a _boy_ in your room.”

Beside him, Leia simply _glared._  “They shared a cabin on the _Falcon,_ how is this any different?”

“It...it just is!” Han spluttered. “I can hear everything that happens on my ship!” 

Rey snickered. “Not _everything.”_

Han’s mouth fell open. “ _Rey_...”

Before he could continue, Leia fixed him with a glare that usually reduced grown men to tears. He quietened, letting her take control. She formed one of her diplomatic smiles at her daughter. “Go on, Rey, say hello to Finn from us.”

Rey quickly rushed off, leaving her mother to smooth things over with her father. Han was suddenly getting the impression that Leia had already known about their daughter’s romantic interests. She should have told him. They’d had time between defeating the First Order and evacuating to Coruscant. It didn’t take two minutes to let him know that his daughter was...was...

“Leia, that’s our _daughter.”_

 _“_ Who was _conceived_ on that ship.” Leia shook her head, smiling as she reached forward to wrap her arms around his neck. He was surprised by the kiss, by the warmth of her mouth as her lips pressed against his. “ _This_ is what I wanted from today.”

“Our daughter having sex on _my_ ship?”

Leia laughed, shaking her head. “ _No_. Something _normal._ Not mission briefings and stolen moments. I want us to be a proper family again.”

“We will.” His lips lingered at the corner of her mouth. “We’ve got the kid. We’ve got the house. We’re halfway there.”

Han cradled Leia’s face, his fingertips stroking her jaw, her lips. This wouldn’t be an easy path. It wasn’t possible to go back to the people they were; the family they used to be. The universe had taken a lot from both of them. But, like a good thief, Han had taken it back. They could start anew.  Air the rooms, repaint the walls, buy new things. Build new memories.

They were happy here, once. They would be again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to request any sequels or remixes for any of the prompts/stories in this collection at ddagent.tumblr.com!


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